


Under the Blind Moon

by Syaunei



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: A Stitch in Time - Andrew Robinson, Angst, Banter, Cultural Differences, Emotionally Repressed, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family, First Kiss, First Time, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Julian Bashir, Personal Growth, Post-Canon Cardassia, Slow Burn, Stream of Consciousness, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 17:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 105
Words: 232,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21360025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syaunei/pseuds/Syaunei
Summary: Julian's reaction to Garak's memoirs (ASIT). Delves deeply into Julian's psyche and re-examines their relationship. Leans heavily on the contents of Andrew Robinson's "A Stitch in Time".
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Ezri Dax
Comments: 2083
Kudos: 332





	1. A Cold Shower

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome!
> 
> After re-watching DS9 again, my eyes were opened to all the wonderful Garashir subtext (something I didn't quite catch in the late nineties, being too young) and I decided to do something about it. 
> 
> In my desperation, I bought a copy of ASIT and wept my eyes out. So much of it reads like a love letter, at least to me! Reading Andy's and Sid's "The Nexus" only made it worse, and when I researched the book canon, I just shook my head. The official writers get guidelines they must respect, but as a fan, I am under no such constraints (mercifully). 
> 
> There are 22 chapters currently written, and I expect this fic to grow into quite a monster. 
> 
> I currently have no beta, so any mistakes are entirely my own.
> 
> So, without further ado, join me on this little journey into Julian Bashir's chaotic mind and I hope I hear from you...  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   


Julian didn't know what to think. When he’d sent out his communiqué, he’d assumed the reply would be written in Garak’s typical cordial manner, and the fact the Cardassian had called him out on it in his response sent a wave of shame through his thin frame. 

_ “Greetings from Cardassia, wish you were here” _ indeed.

At this point, he wasn’t even surprised that Garak had known enough of him to read between the lines of his, in hindsight, overly simplistic message. Julian’s tone was unmistakably formal and polite, his communication worded as something he might’ve written to a distant friend (one who rarely stayed in touch) and intended solely as means of maintaining a sense of contact. No wonder his plain and simple tailor friend reacted poorly – the letter he had penned had been overly impersonal; the manner and format of the response he had gotten made him feel like a scolded child. 

Garak had always been inordinately good at that. What used to fill him with feelings of foolishness and inadequacy, even though his old friend could always moderate his chiding with a tactful dose of stern yet affectionate reproach, now engulfed him with an oppressing weight of utter, humiliating shame.

What had he been thinking? Here he was, still on Deep Space 9, happily diverted by his relationship with Ezri, feeling more optimistic about his prospects and his future, and so damn certain of his reaffirmed place in the universe that he felt like extending a message to his absent not-quite-friend, almost as if no time had passed at all and they were back at the Replimat for one of their lunches; merrily discussing the station gossip and latest news.

He should have known. 

The realization struck him like a blow to the gut. He _had_ expected a reply more in tone with his own – a polite and friendly exchange of mostly meaningless pleasantries, yet what he had received in return was a stinging mixture of a cold shower and a slap to the face.

He had expected a detached and coolly polite news exchange from his spy friend’s lying fingers, crafted with the finest precision to come across as perfectly amiable and nothing more. He clutched the edge of the console and slumped over. His heart was beating an erratic staccato in his chest, making him painfully aware of every throbbing vein and muscle in his body.

The dust. The dead. The rubble and the utter devastation. Julian’s throat constricted painfully with internalized reproach. How could he have forgotten the reality? Cardassia lay in ruins. He knew that, of course, at least intellectually. It was finally dawning on him that while he was enjoying the way his life had turned out, the man he never fully got to know was being systematically dismantled by his present circumstances.

He had known Garak was a survivor and therefore had no doubt the ex-spy would have the affairs of his home planet well in hand.

How very wrong he was.

Julian collapsed into his chair and buried his face into his hands. The image, never properly witnessed, burned in his eyes like the biting, sand-choked wind of Cardassia. Just imagining all those starved people, wandering the ruined streets of their homeland listlessly, all those proud and perfectly poised Cardassians reduced to desperate animals scrounging through the rubble for food or their loved ones… Garak’s delivery was almost casual in some places. The brief and to the point mention of mass graves choked him. He had learned from the tailor about the value and beauty of subtext and needed no time at all to realize exactly what Garak had meant with that summary of events. It may have read as a simple report, but Julian knew better. Burial was deeply significant to Cardassians and the very notion of dumping the dead together en masse so… _disgustingly irreverently_, only served to illustrate the overwhelming sense of despair and turmoil the entire race had been thrown into. 

He could _hear_ Garak’s heart breaking anew every time the rebuilding process was mentioned. The image of the once meticulous and immaculately dressed man stuck in a tool shed, forced to keep the doors open to stave off his crippling claustrophobia, forced to face the rubble of the only home he’d ever known, staring him in the face so brazenly indifferent to his plight made Julian want to crumple. 

It had occurred to him that Garak lied as easily as he breathed and that any part of his reply could be merely an elaborate construct designed to accomplish some nefarious goal of his, but the openness of the delivery and the delicate contents had him shaking his head to dispel the awful thought. Why would Garak fabricate so much raw pain, where a simple: “Please, come to Cardassia” would have served? A bitter chuckle emerged past his constricted throat as he realized his friend would never be quite so obvious, yet… 

It all felt too _real_, too _visceral_ to be anything other than the cruel, unvarnished truth. 

He didn’t even notice he had started rocking back and forth in his chair until he wondered why he felt so cold. Rising to his feet abruptly, he all but sprinted to the bathroom where he bowled over the toilet and heaved until his throat was on fire and his mouth tasted like bile. 

The reflection he witnessed in the mirror was rumpled, wide-eyed and bone-weary, covered in a thin sheen of glistening sweat, trembling chin mottled with sick grotesquely displaying his shame.

_ I’m a bad friend.  _ Julian thought in merciless recrimination. 

He’d sent Garak such an inane message, not expecting much of a reply beyond the perfunctory and had the _gall_ to be upset over lack of reply for several months. Instead of turning on his vaunted augmented brain to look for logical reasons why the man wasn’t able to send out a reply, he had quite quickly settled on the easiest and laziest of them all – that his _friend_ simply didn’t care enough.

While he was here, cheerfully and ignorantly and _arrogantly_ living on, his old friend’s life was falling to pieces around him while the Cardassian watched impotently from the side-lines. Except that wasn’t true either, was it? Garak was in the thick of it all, trying to make some sense of the ruin his life had become, trying to rebuild his beloved Cardassia and bleeding in every sense of the word at the cruel mindlessness of it all. 

This had all happened months ago. 

And Julian wasn’t there.

It had never even crossed his mind.

With a whimper, he collapsed to the floor and wept.


	2. I'danian Spice Pudding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian reminisces over dinner.

Julian was only half-listening.

Ezri’s soft and enthusiastic chattering over dinner was soothing, so he allowed himself to slip into his thoughts.

It all made perfect sense. In hindsight, of course, as all things were wont to do.

Garak’s words from the Dominion’s prison camp sprang to mind as vividly as the moment they were uttered:

_“I should never have come here. I should have let that monster die forgotten and alone... All my life I've done nothing but try to please that man. I let him mold me, let him turn me into a mirror image of himself, and how did he repay me? With exile. But I forgave him. And here, in the end, I thought maybe, just maybe, he could forgive me...“_

Tolan mentioned something about Garak having the soul of a poet and Julian couldn’t help but agree. 

Garak had an undeniable talent for storytelling, and what better medium than an epistolary memoir? The text was by no means overly verbose; it flowed quite nicely, creating an intriguing sense of suspense by switching between the distant past and the present, making you crave more of both narrative threads. He smiled softly as he remembered their lunches together, always so intellectually stimulating as they tore into their respective culture’s classics with excited abandon. At least on his part, that is. During their heated debates, Garak could be quite gleeful but always came across as poised. Julian had envied that type of collectedness once upon a time. Now, when he knew what lay behind it and how steep the price for obtaining it had been, his joy turned to ashes in his mouth.

It must have shown on his traitorous face, because Ezri’s gentle tone turned to worry.

“-lian, what’s wrong?”

He snapped out of his thoughts and focused on his girlfriend. Ezri was so sweet and he allowed himself a moment to indulge in her soft features and her gentle concern. He realized she was waiting for his reply, and he sighed before he could squash the urge to. The words tumbled from his lips.

“Oh, nothing. Rough day at work, is all.”

She offered him a sympathetic smile and squeezed his hand across the table. Her hand was soft and he trailed his gaze across her dainty spots. She was warm and comforting, an important characteristic for either a counselor or a girlfriend. He loved her and he was grateful for her support, but he didn’t wish to get into the discussion about his feelings. Especially considering this had absolutely nothing to do with her. Julian was a grown man; he could cope on his own.

“I’m sorry, Julian… Why don’t you tell me about it?”

He could spin an elaborate lie and for a brief moment he actually considered it. It would make Garak proud, no doubt, to see his often inept pupil try to emulate the master, but he couldn’t make himself lie to Ezri when she was so open and sincere with him. 

“It’s utterly boring and I would rather relax and not think about it, is that ok?” He asked, looking at her pleadingly.

“Of course, Julian.” She smiled reassuringly. “Did I tell you Morn came to see me?”

Julian shook his head and went back to his meal, giving Ezri the appropriate responses as necessary while his brain returned to many tasks which always ran in the background. His research was going well and he considered several new avenues of approach to the latest development, already internally cataloging the materials he would need to obtain for it. Distantly, he realized he was eating significantly slower than was his custom. Garak would have been pleased.

His thoughts swirled away from research as his mind settled on parsing his friend’s epic. The story of a simple childhood, spent working dutifully for the good of the State, no matter the humble capacity; a gentler time already rife with signs of how it would all end. It was such a quintessentially Cardassian piece of literature it almost made him laugh out loud. It was almost like a transcript of one of their farcical trials, or an unknown, yet utterly predictable enigma tale. 

He had known the identity of Garak’s father in advance, ever since that deliberately staged scene of Enabran Tain’s deathbed confession. He could still recall with perfect clarity the multi-layered shock he received just watching it all play out. Garak had so gently coaxed the truth from the dying man and Julian was left entirely blindsided by it. He had never expected actual truth from the ex-spy, and the way the old interrogator went about it, even though it was probably entirely for his benefit, left Julian feeling like he had ordered Tain be tortured. His manipulative friend had lied to his father on his deathbed, drawn out something painful and buried, and Julian couldn’t tell who was supposed to benefit from that. Did Garak merely want to be acknowledged by his father in the end, or did he feel he owed Julian some small measure of truth after years of lies? Perhaps it was both or none of the above. Garak’s motives have always been inscrutable. Despite the complicated tangle of emotions, Julian could still vividly recall the awe that pierced him as cleanly as a shot from a phaser; marvel at the fact Garak, a consummate liar, had allowed him to witness a moment of such vulnerability. It was a secret of such importance that it essentially served as the cornerstone of the Cardassian’s entire personality. Surely allowing Julian to witness it meant _something._

Garak spoke of masks and humans taking everything at face value, and even though Julian yearned to argue against it with a passion, a small part of him chided himself for his hypocrisy.

Garak _had_ lied to him, yet after this huge missive, so crassly direct for Cardassian standards, Julian felt like an absolute moron. How could he, after all this time, have the audacity to claim he was the wronged party? He had lied and obfuscated and misdirected just as much as Garak did. The fact he had done it out of self-preservation and fear of rejection used to make him feel justified. Now he couldn’t find any difference in their actions. Except Garak had done it for Cardassia, and Julian just wanted to cover his own arse; potentially also saving his family in the process. Wasn’t that also a Cardassian notion? Do it for family?

He knew how the story was going to end, but for the first time in his life, he could see the beauty in the concept Garak had tried to teach him so long ago. Just because the ending was known, and the guilty parties identified, didn’t mean the journey to that conclusion wasn’t worthy of being explored. 

How fitting that the only way he could have learned to appreciate Cardassian literature was to have it pre-chewed for him by his unofficial mentor. Garak could have been a great writer, as popular as Preloc or Shoggoth, had he not been molded from birth into a perfect unfeeling scalpel, a tool in the service of the State. Were they truly so different in the end? Garak didn’t seem to think so. Despite his barbs on account of Julian’s genetic enhancements, it appeared the old spy saw Julian as his own person. What did he call it? Ah, “arranged”. He was obviously trying to evoke a parallel between the two of them. In a way, they were both just victims of the hubris of their fathers.

Garak’s conflicted nature bled off the page and Julian felt like a heinous criminal for prying into his friend’s pain, no matter how freely it was offered. 

Julian, who had always been fascinated by human emotion and tried so hard to develop his stunted emotional and social awareness, found himself stripped bare of all artifice and shallow perceptions in face of something so overwhelmingly _real._

He could almost feel the confusion of a younger Garak, thrown into an institution designed to break him apart and reassemble him into something proficient, vicious and obedient. He felt the struggle the unprepared student faced as he stumbled under the oppressive weight of everyone’s never properly explained expectations. 

That first day when an uncertain and still innocent Ten Lubak went to fetch the cleaning supplies read so clearly. They had punished him for showing up alone and Julian was almost completely certain that Garak would have been punished regardless, even if he had shown up with more squadmates. Julian could already imagine the harshness and biting words tearing into a confused, unguarded mind for daring to think safety lay in numbers and blaming him for cowardice.

Indeed, that test seemed perfectly designed to “teach” the students, no matter their choice. Their own miniature version of Kobayashi Maru.

It was sickening.

“Would you like some dessert, Julian?”

He blinked and smiled.

“Sure, some I’danian spice pudding would be nice.”

He watched the Trill take their plates to the replicator and observed dispassionately as they vanished.

He hadn’t eaten that particular dessert in a long time.

_ “So, how’s the I’danian spice pudding today?” _

“What’s wrong with it?” Ezri asked, pointing in the direction of his plate with her chocolate-covered fork.

_ “How’s the spice pudding? Is that all you have to say for yourself? How can you just sit there and pretend the last ten days never happened?”  _

Garak was right. If Cardassians remembered everything they’d ever done during every moment they experienced in the present, it truly did approach the way Julian’s own mind worked. How did Garak know that?

“Oh, nothing’s wrong with it.” Julian said lightheartedly, giving her his most dashing smile. “I’m a bit full and am reconsidering having dessert, but it tastes so good I’ll eat it anyway!” 

Ezri laughed at his antics and went back to her chocolate torte. 

“If you are full, then I won’t offer you any of this decadent Delavian chocolate cake!”

Julian joined her amused, care-free laughter and agreed it was for the best he didn’t try any.

Especially since it reminded him of another individual with a fondness for Delavian chocolates.

Sentiment truly _was_ the greatest weakness of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it. Julian is slowly starting to use his brain, haha! 
> 
> Also, my apologies for frequent references to ASIT, I am aware it will be quite confusing to those who haven't read it, but I couldn't find a way around it. Julian is forced to analyze something difficult and he's not having an easy time of it!
> 
> I'd love to know what you think!


	3. Blind Moon's Cradle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian gets curious about a significant location in Garak's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Blind Moon piano theme](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190037628876/phew-main-theme-for-my-fanfiction-under-the) composed by yours truly! 
> 
> :)

Julian didn’t know what was wrong with him. 

He’d wanted to ask Quark, but couldn’t allow the perceptive Ferengi to have that kind of leverage over him, so he’d lied through his teeth and bought a time slot at Holosuite 4, a whole evening’s worth; claiming he wished to program something himself for the fun of it. 

He couldn’t risk anyone knowing about this. Let them think he was going to spend an evening with scantily-clad 20th century women dressed as a secret agent, or some other nonsense, despite wearing non-descript civilian clothes which belied such pursuits.

As the metal doors slid shut behind him, he got to work on a panel, busying himself with inputting the desired parameters. The ground beneath his feet turned into grass and brutalist monuments rose around the clearing, jutting against an alien sky. The temperature increased to 32°C, and an arid wind blew softly across his face. He frowned in concentration as he added details he wanted to the program, working in complete silence. 

So, his Cardassian friend found his deeply furrowed brow odd. For a man of his age, anyway. Julian didn’t know what to make of that comment. Most of Garak’s writing made sense to him, even though he could tell there was so much left out. Occasionally, though, there would be a comment such as that one, which left him puzzled. Was it simply a curiosity of human physiognomy which prompted the observation, or was there more to it? 

Julian refused to look too closely at the scene he was trying to recreate, wanting to take it all in at once, and only after it was done. 

What scents were there, he wondered idly, trying to fool himself into believing he was truly on the planet in question, all the while knowing his imagination, though considerable would invariably fail to capture the reality of the place he so yearned to see. Probably because it had been bombed into oblivion. He wondered idly what was left of it anyhow and felt somewhat relieved that it didn’t matter how different his rendition was if there was nothing left to compare it against. 

With a sigh, he stared at the floor, shuffling along until he saw a patch of different vegetation and sat down in front of it, only allowing his eyes to focus once he got comfortable on the ground.

The first thing he noticed was how alien the grass felt. It had a thicker membrane than the one at home and he knew exactly why that was. This grass had evolved to retain water better in its harsh desert environment. It wasn’t nearly as vibrant as the grass back in England. Nowhere near enough rain; he mused.

He looked up at the sky and noticed that the sun, even at noon, wasn’t as blinding as it would be back on Earth. Reedy clouds trailed across the sky, further obfuscating the muted star. The sensation was utterly strange – he had always equated light with heat, but here, such preconceived notions dissipated as the heat rose another degree. It was still far from the highest temperature Cardassia had to offer, but it was about the brightest it could get.

Garak had complained that lights were always too bright on the station. Now he could see why. This was alien to him but completely normal to Garak. This was the man’s home. His baseline.

Julian’s eyes took in the rigid magnificence of the monuments of the Tarlak Sector. Even an imagined version demanded his attention and respect. It was an affront to the more genteel sensibilities of utopian, 24th century Federation tastes, but he rather supposed that was normal. It was Cardassia.

There it was again, Julian could almost hear Garak’s amused, admonishing voice telling him off for equating Earth tastes to those of any of the other Federation planets, openly mocking the veiled colonialism his opinion demonstrated. The Cardassian always could dismantle any argument Julian presented. At first, it used to intimidate him, after a while it irritated him, only to permutate into a shame so deep Julian felt he could never be rid of it. 

This was the place young Garak felt most at ease. Here, among the monuments, and a meticulously arranged public park his father… his _spiritual_ father tended to with such reverent dedication. Julian allowed his eyes to go where he was most reluctant to allow them.

In front of him, well within reach, a patch of breathtaking flowers grew proudly. He imagined the gardener Tolan showing his painstakingly gained craft to the young man whose soul he wanted to save. Despite the heat, Julian trembled.

They truly were exquisite, Edosian orchids. So was their poison, if the botanical database was to be believed.

Unable to help himself, he reached for the flowers and caressed their thick petals. They were startlingly smooth to the touch, almost as if they had been polished. Even if he hadn’t known how dangerous they were, there was something about the configuration of the flower which almost made it look like an ornamental knife. Such a beautifully delicate flower.

He plucked a single bloom and brought it to his nose. It had a most subtle smell and he was half-tempted to actually taste it. 

Garak would call him a fool, no doubt.

Garak wasn’t here, though. 

Garak wasn’t there either. This _place_ was no longer _there_. 

Julian’s heart clenched when he remembered what happened to such parks in Earth’s history during times of war and utter devastation.

Was this place of beauty one of those mass graves now? Would they ever even try to turn it back into a place of solitude and contemplation? Did Garak miss it?

He must, Julian thought. It was devastating. This place held such personal significance to his plain and simple friend that he couldn’t imagine the man not feeling pain over it.

Julian was startled by the realization that he couldn’t imagine any place in his own past he would be so sad to see go. The only item of emotional value he possessed was Kukalaka, and since his parents insisted on moving around constantly, there never was a place he’d managed to grow roots. DS9 was the closest he ever got.

He looked at the orchids again. 

These were Garak’s roots. They were a bond between a _truly_ plain and simple gardener who tried his best to raise a child that wasn’t even his, all the while knowing he could hardly oppose a man like Tain. He felt sorry for Tolan, sorry that the man’s most treasured possession – his knowledge, had been used to assassinate someone down the line. The worst thing was, Julian could tell the gardener had known what Garak would do with the information but shared it anyways. Perhaps he had hoped his nephew would turn away from the path Enabran Tain had chosen. It was a shame that the path had been too well-trod by that point.

Julian had always wanted to solve the enigma of Elim Garak and wondered why the man would choose to simply hand over the keys to the kingdom to him, of all people. 

The pages he was sent screamed of a deep and pervasive sense of loneliness and isolation that had been forced upon him. They spoke of a man who _wanted_, no, _needed_ a connection to the world and people around him, but had been denied outright. Stripped of his emotions, needs and wants, it only made sense Garak would turn cold and hollow. Except... that wasn't quite true, was it? Even at his worst, Garak was never truly empty. 

Julian blinked at the setting sun. The colors bloomed and exploded across the sky, taking his breath away. The intense indigo, crimson and magenta spread across the horizon, painting a vivid picture contrasted by the savage contours of the monuments. Julian stood up with a jolt and took off towards that mirage of a horizon. He ran and ran across the immaculately kept plain, past the obelisks and geometric monstrosities, dodging their elongating, grasping shadows until his legs gave way and he collapsed in front of a sculpture reminiscent of a crescent-shaped altar, reaching into the sky. 

Darkness coalesced in front of him and he watched mesmerized as a pale moon slid across the alien, star-dappled sky, only to nest in the bowl shape of the monument in front of him. 

It was the Blind Moon.

More than anything, he wanted to freeze the moon in its orbit, but that would break the illusion, and he couldn’t bear it. 

This… 

This was his friend’s beloved Cardassia.

Even this fleeting glimpse of its beauty rendered Julian speechless and incoherent. 

His augmented brain deserted him. At any point, Julian could measure distances between objects, their circumference, weight, even likely chemical composition. He could always say what time it was on Earth, Andoria, Vulcan, Qo’noS, Bajor and a dozen other planets. Therefore, it stood to reason that he could calculate exactly what stardate it was on Cardassia, based solely on the configuration of its starry sky.

Except he couldn’t. 

As he stared at the ghostly moon, dipping into the bowl of the gleaming white marble monument erected before his eyes, he felt as insignificant as a grain of sand floating on Cardassia’s winds.

While his mind receded like water flowing down the drain, his body was exploding with warmth. Tears welled in his eyes as he lay sprawled over the grass, his chest heaving with something indescribable and unknown; his eyes unblinking, riveted to the foreign sky above. 

He lost all sense of time, all sense of self. 

That was how Quark found him, hours later, staring into the ceiling. He let himself be shooed away and ignored the Ferengi proprietor’s musings on strange hu-mans.

How could he even begin to explain that it wasn’t the drab metal paneling and holo-emitters his eyes were seeing, but a vast Cardassian sky?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter where Julian's subconscious mind struggles to communicate something - if only he knew what it was, hah!
> 
> If you have any thoughts, don't hesitate - I'm dying to discuss this!


	4. Infirmary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian can't quite concentrate on his work.

Julian had always felt _right _in his infirmary. 

It was his domain. 

It may have not been the place he would have chosen for himself at fifteen, but it had become the centre of his world regardless.

He may have hated his parents for what they did to him, for all their meddling and their typical human desire to see their offspring excel in a prestigious field. It was such a cliché, yet he was forced to admit that he couldn’t imagine himself doing anything else.

Sure, tennis would have been fun, but medicine had become his _raison d’_ _ ê _ _ tre _ . He truly had no regrets. He may have had to grow into it, but it didn’t make it any less true.

His treacherous mind decided to allot a portion of his mental processes to the thought of a certain other person who had grown into his own version of parent-approved destiny. 

Of course, his Cardassian friend’s choice of career ran almost entirely opposite to his own – where Julian had taken an oath to do no harm, the Obsidian Order operative had likely given a similar, albeit inverse oath, to do anything necessary for the good of his Empire.

Now, Julian had a far better idea about what Garak had asked forgiveness for, so long ago. 

He had interrogated, tortured, killed and betrayed countless people for Tain, like a good little dog. 

Like an obedient, well-oiled cog in a complex fascist regime. 

_ “The missing pieces of the mosaic of Cardassian civilization.” _ _ _

Julian wanted to be angry. Truly.

Only he would remember all the times Garak had unsubtly reminded him not to trust him. Julian had always known the tailor was an unapologetic liar and he could still remember the feeling of blind mammalian fear at their first encounter. With one glance, he’d known _exactly_ what Garak was – a predator.

In the 24th century, humans liked to pretend that they’d evolved past their more primitive instincts, but one look at that smiling Cardassian face sent Julian’s fight or flight response into full red alert. No matter how unruffled and unbothered by the glib exchange he’d tried to appear; he had known deep in his bones that the man before him was dangerous.

In retrospect, it was a wonder their relationship had managed to survive the blind fright of that first meeting.

No, Julian was forced to admit to himself, it made a sick sort of sense. The impending danger had actually excited him back then. He had run to Ops like an overly excited puppy and blabbed enthusiastically, at length, to anyone that would listen. 

He’d been fascinated.

Enthralled.

He shook his wandering thoughts away and focused on treating an engineer who stumbled into the infirmary with second-degree plasma burns. After administering a hypo for the pain, he started running a dermal regenerator over the patient’s burnt forearm. With professional detachment, he noticed she was rather young and quite attractive – fresh from school would be his guess. She had luscious black curls tied into an elaborate ponytail, with several wild tendrils framing her face. Her blue eyes twinkled at him, but he ignored her, choosing instead to focus on her injury. 

Apologetic rambling filled the air as she began to explain how she came about her wounds. In a distant corner of his mind, he ran calculations about the temperature of the plasma needed to cause second degree burns, considered what gift to buy Ezri for her birthday, compared the shade of their hair, noticed there was something about his patient which vaguely reminded him of Ziyal and that the shade of her blue eyes was a touch too green; a touch too _wrong._

He’d dismissed the engineer with a smile and a recommendation she be more careful in the future.

Once she was gone and the infirmary blissfully empty once more, he sat into his chair and took his PADD; opting to write up a report due tomorrow at 08:00 hours.

Something else was overdue, but he was staunchly ignoring it. 

It’s not like he knew what to answer.

He was busy.

People could be busy and have no time to answer.

Garak’s damning words floated to the forefront of his mind.

_ “I know we have grown apart and that’s as it should be. We learn what we can from certain people, then we move on after we’ve taken what we need.” _

Garak had taken Calyx’s deadly grace, Tolan’s knowledge and work ethic and was now likely attempting to learn something from Doctor Parmak as well. 

Julian wondered what Garak had taken from him?

_ “When we learn nothing new about ourselves in a relationship that’s when the relationship is over. Or it’s over the moment we’re  _ afraid_ to learn something new about ourselves.”_

This line, more than any other in Garak’s sprawling narrative, had shaken him to his very core.

_ “But what I have been learning about myself…whatever it was inside me that was sparked and challenged when I first met you… is deeply connected to this story. I’m an unfinished man, Doctor, like a suit of clothes hanging on a display rack waiting for the final touches that may never come-“ _

The words gleamed with sincerity, shining in the darkness like the starry sky of Cardassia. It spoke to Julian of unfinished business. 

Their friendship had never been quite close enough, the level of trust needed for it looming above them like an unmet prerequisite, stern and mocking and ever out of reach. He’d always assumed Garak was the one holding them back, but now knew better than to leave responsibility solely at the Cardassian’s door. After all, he was also the one with secrets. 

Now, more than ever, Julian found himself empathizing with Garak. Their loneliness was comparable, both the self-imposed and the expected kind. They both longed to find a person they could connect with completely and honestly; and they both fell short.

Julian had Ezri, though. She was lovely, intelligent and insightful.

Who did Garak have? Had he found his Palandine? Was he reading too much into Garak’s developing friendship with Dr. Parmak?

And why did it matter anyway?

They had drifted apart. They both knew it, both acknowledged it. They both obviously felt it was for the best.

Except… for that niggling, insidious feeling in his mind that refused to go away. A dark thought, floating like a Pah’Wraith over his thoughts.

Damn that Cardassian attention to detail! Damn Garak and his infuriating fondness for subtext!

Damn the man for making him question something he had thought he’d managed to put to rest. 

_ “I know we have grown apart and that’s as it should be.” _

Plain and simple Garak had _never_ been plain and simple. And if everything was true, _especially _the lies, then all was most definitely _not_ as it should be.

Julian deduced that his evasive friend was trying to clear the air between them, likely finding it impossible to deal with bad air on all fronts. 

He knew he should answer the man.

He owed it to him. Every quiver of his body told him so.

Except he just couldn’t.

Where would he even begin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think he's getting closer? 
> 
> He has quite a labyrinthine mind, doesn't he? I wonder if he sees Garak as the minotaur prowling around the labyrinth, or as Ariadne's red thread guiding him out...
> 
> Just food for thought!


	5. Arboretum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Ezri go on a date. There is something in the stars...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Upper Left Corner of the Viewport](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190042512191/under-the-blind-moon-another-song-for-my) , the companion song I composed for this chapter! Enjoy~ 
> 
> This might be the briefest chapter in the entire story, but it stands alone and padding it seemed like a bad idea, so I left it as is. It conveys exactly what I wanted it to and that's all that matters!

Julian had taken Ezri to the arboretum for a date. It was the least he could do, after all the exhausting shifts they endured this week. They both deserved a break.

They strolled around the converted cargo bay and marveled over the lush foliage, towering trees, flowering snaking vines and various bushes in several stages of bloom.

It was a welcome oasis from the oppressive sterile environment of the station. He supposed Cardassians could hardly be called upon to produce comforting décor. 

They stopped at a window which framed a stretch of glittering space beyond the pressurized walls of the station. 

Ezri sighed contentedly and molded herself against his side. He draped an arm around her and held her close.

“Mmm, this is wonderful.” She muttered in satisfaction and he voiced his agreement. 

He wondered why this window suddenly seemed more beautiful than usual; it’s ribbed oval delicate and aesthetically pleasing. Distantly, he compared the station’s design to all the different kinds he’d seen over the years and startled when he realized just how drab Federation designs were in comparison to Deep Space 9. The Federation designs were so focused on practical and utilitarian that they looked alarmingly plain and banal in comparison to the original Cardassian design of Terok Nor, majestic with its delicate rings and elegantly curved pylons. Starbase 375 looked like a clumsy child’s toy in comparison.

It took him 2.3 seconds to orient himself and his eyes wandered surreptitiously to the upper left side of the window.

In that direction lay the star system housing Cardassia Prime.

He could feel Ezri shifting in his arms and he turned to look at her. Her lips were quirked up and she was looking at him expectantly. The blue of her eyes showed her feelings plainly and he allowed himself to fall into it. 

He kissed her long and hard as stars burned in the background. They were ensconced in dense foliage, completely protected from view and he recalled secrets shared and bared under the pale moonlight. 

Of all the stories, all the lies, he found it ironic that a love affair was the thing which had brought the enigmatic Cardassian to ruin and earned him an exile. 

There was something tragically romantic in the notion of a most devout son and spy losing himself so completely to love.

He pulled Ezri closer, let his hands roam her skin, took in her shivers and swallowed her moans. This was _his_ Palandine, wasn’t she?

Julian could hardly blame Garak, she sounded like a fine woman – passionate, competent, resolute. Also bold and wild enough to dissolve a hardened spy’s impenetrable shell by watering the seed she had planted while he was a mere boy. 

It sounded like a love worth throwing everything away for. At least until life came knocking and showed you how foolish you were.

Time and experience made fools of even the wisest men and Julian had never felt particularly wise.

Ezri giggled.

“Julian, are you sure you want to do this here?”

Her tone implied embarrassment, but also a sense of eager curiosity. For a moment, it felt so familiar that he couldn’t help himself. With a laugh, he said:

“Look at you! Is that a glimpse of Jadzia or Curzon I see?”

Ezri blinked at him and blushed.

“I-“ She stammered endearingly: “I think I’d prefer we do this in our quarters.”

Julian smiled and gave her a last peck, taking her soft hand in his.

He turned his back on the window full of stars and ignored a pinprick of light which shone dimmer than the others, from the left upper corner of the viewport. 

When they’d gotten to the room, he had turned out the lights and made love to her slowly.

Her eyes were just a shade too light.

A single shade.

He closed his eyes and knew exactly where that dim dot was, beyond the dark gray bulkhead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I could think about when I wrote this was: Is it too obvious? 
> 
> It also made me squeal. Things can sneak up on you...


	6. Information Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian comes to an important conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's finally getting somewhere.
> 
> I realized something while writing Julian. He is so proud whenever he puzzles something out and reaches a conclusion, but his realizations are always missing something, haha! 
> 
> Baby steps, Julian. Baby steps.

Julian wasn’t sure what had possessed him, but he took to monitoring all incoming traffic from Cardassian space. 

The reports were not exactly encouraging.

There were news of several diseases spreading across the war ravaged colonies, reports of alarming lack of medical or indeed any kind of supplies, rumors of famine and laments over the destroyed infrastructure. 

Of course, it wasn’t something Cardassians wanted advertized, but the unaffiliated freighter captains ferrying supplies to their destroyed homeworld all spoke of unimaginable squalor and terrible conditions. 

Well, Garak had invited him to Cardassia, hadn’t he?

_ “Nothing would please me more. You’re always welcome, Doctor.” _

That was the last line he had written. 

The end of his self-proclaimed memoir offered a glimpse of a man who seemed more at ease, a man who started out with a plea for Julian to come heal a broken world, and ended on a proud note - inviting now a witness to show him his progress.

Julian looked at his life. 

He was content here, he had Ezri and he had his research… Yet, he missed Miles. The Irishman had grown on him considerably over the years and his absence was keenly felt. He missed the darts, the holosuite adventures and the drinking until they both sang bawdy songs horribly out of tune. 

He missed the captain, now gone, lost somewhere in time with his Prophets.

It was a horrible thing to think, but he missed Jadzia too, despite all her memories living on in his girlfriend; Ezri was not Jadzia. He loved her, sure, but theirs was not the friendship it had taken him years to build with the symbiont’s previous host.

Kira was still here, but they had never been particularly close, vestiges of his abrasive young self likely to blame for it.

He frowned. So many of his friends saw him as something to be improved back then. They’d all found him annoying and thought he talked too much, never failing to point out his unfortunate tendency to overshare. 

Garak had been no different in that regard, Julian mused, for he too had done his best to change him. Funny thing was… Garak had been the first to give him a chance. Oh, he scolded Julian and ribbed him, but Julian had always felt the man did so with a kind of affectionate exasperation. Garak had always given him the impression, well… that he found Julian genuinely endearing.

_ He was my first friend.  _ Julian thought. Why had he never noticed that before? Before there was Jadzia, or Miles or Kira… There had been Garak.

Shame rose in his gut as he looked out into space from the Promenade. 

He had repaid that friendship poorly. 

And yet, the person Garak had chosen to lay his heart bare to was Julian. 

It made him feel like the worst sort of ingrate. 

Guilt gnawed at him from the inside as he looked in the direction where his friend waited for him. 

Julian wanted to see Cardassia. He wished to see that vibrant sunset; to touch the Edosian orchids Elim had planted in his yard next to the rubble monuments. He wanted to see the man’s self-proclaimed totem. He wanted to join a meeting of the Oralian Way. 

The image of playing children asking the tailor to mend the clothes they’d torn by climbing a tree or playing hide and seek was as alluring as a siren’s call. 

He wanted to see what was left of the Tarlak sector.

He wanted to see the Blind Moon cradled by that marble monument.

He wanted to take a shuttle full of provisions, medical supplies and water purifiers and fly to Cardassia Prime, use most of his accumulated shore leave and stay until he was forced to leave.

He wanted to set up a field hospital in Garak’s garden.

But most of all, he wanted to see his friend’s familiar, ebullient smile.

Perhaps there, on a war-torn Cardassia, now rebuilding and ever industrious, he could finally find what he needed and ask his dear friend for forgiveness. There was an absolution only Garak could bestow and Julian felt its jagged edges keenly in his chest. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would say when he was face to face with the ex-spy. 

_ I am sorry I forgot about you. _

How trite. How true. How very awful. Eminently unsuitable and lacking any subtlety.

_ I am sorry it took me so long. _

How maudlin and sentimental. It would offend him, surely.

_ I am sorry I never saw the truth. _

Julian had never wanted to see it. The mystery was too alluring, even as it corroded the basis of a relationship that never got the nourishment it needed to flourish, never met experienced hands of a gardener capable of gently supporting its roots until they took.

_ You said you thought I would always give you a second chance, but now I find myself in need of one in return. _

Julian stared mute and unblinking at the dim, red star in the distance. 

He didn’t need the program in the holosuite anymore. It was saved on a data rod and safe in his pocket. He was half tempted to give it to Garak, but decided against it. 

He didn’t need the artificial Cardassian sky anymore. 

After all, he could see it every time he closed his eyes.


	7. Kira Strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Kira discuss his travel plans.

“You’re taking leave on Cardassia Prime?!” Kira gaped at him in disbelief.

“Yes. I thought I’d use the opportunity to see how Garak is doing. We know the situation is grim from scattered reports, but I want to see for myself.”

“I suppose that is the reason why Quark was talking about aiding a humanitarian mission to Cardassia and grumbling about not exploiting a friend the way a good Ferengi would?”

Julian smiled sheepishly and rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“That’s it. He helped me assemble the supplies and acquire some portable generators, water purifiers and the like. I heard the lack of infrastructure was one of the biggest issues, I’m sure they could use any help they can get.”

Kira looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Still, that’s a lot of trouble to go through for Garak.”

Julian felt his hackles rise.

“It’s not just Garak, Nerys! The diseases are rampant; they lack personnel, facilities and provisions! How can I just stand aside and do nothing?”

Kira rolled her eyes at his dramatics and spoke more soothingly.

“I just thought you’d want to take Ezri to Risa or something, not go play frontier medicine again.”

Julian sighed. She’d never let that go, would she? It was years ago!

“Ezri knows. I even offered she come with me, but she said she’d rather stay here and take command courses. I think she’s tired of counseling.”

“With everyone still recovering from the war, I’m not surprised.” Kira said.

“Yeah.” Julian nodded. 

“Still, two months leave, Julian? That seems like a lot to spend on such a dreary vacation spot.”

“After I use those up, I’ll have two weeks left over and I can take Ezri anywhere she wants to go.”

Kira laughed.

“I see that was the deciding factor, wasn’t it?” She quipped and grasped his shoulder playfully. 

All he could think about was whether Garak would do the same when he saw him again.

“I don’t know why she puts up with you.” Kira laughed boisterously and Julian felt insulted. Why was it so hard for people to grasp that someone might genuinely like him as opposed to merely tolerating him? Was he so damaged, so awkward that people couldn’t see past it still?

“Must be my dashing good looks.” He fired back, noticing with disappointment the mirth on Kira’s face. Garak would have seen through his statement in a nanosecond. 

That, at least, was something he could count on and look forward to. 

“When does your transport leave?” Kira asked in a more sober tone.

“In an hour, I better swing by my quarters and grab my bag.”

“Good.” Kira said. “Oh, and say hi to Garak for me.”

Julian found himself giving her a significantly warmer smile at that.

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another tiny chapter, I'm afraid, but here is when we finally get this show on the road! I think this took him at least two months, if not more. 
> 
> Let's see what he'll be pondering next!


	8. Kira Strikes Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian says his goodbyes, receives something for Garak and boards the transport to Cardassia. He makes an important discovery about himself.

Kira had managed to surprise him a second time before he left; she’d arrived at the airlock with Ezri and allowed the Trill her goodbyes before handing him a sturdy black cylinder around a meter long, claiming it was a gift for Garak. 

Julian was left perplexed and asked what it was. Kira shrugged and said:

“Something he might like. Tell him it’s delicate. And don’t open it! I want it to survive the transport, all right?”

Julian promised, embraced Ezri once last time, wished her good luck with her command courses and embarked the freighter after having waved to them both. 

As he found a place to sit, he took care to gently put down his luggage. 

By force of habit, he swiveled his head around and stared in the direction of the freighter’s bridge. He could triangulate the location of Cardassia’s home system blindfolded at this point. He wasn’t a religious man, but couldn’t fail to notice the coordinates seemed to have become his Mecca. Julian felt like a stubborn compass, always invariably pointing to true North. He sensed the ship undocking and then pulling away from the station. His eyes followed the spot as the ship reoriented itself to jump to warp. 

Julian’s gut churned. 

He hadn’t managed a single message. Deeply concerned that any further communiqué over subspace would come across as trite, he’d tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter, that once he got there, he would think of something. After all, he was no longer that tongue-tied, stammering young fool. Also, more importantly, Garak _wanted_ to see him. 

Julian wondered whether his prolonged silence might have been taken as betrayal. 

Garak has had quite enough of it in his life. No matter how expected it was, no matter if he took it all in stride, betrayal shadowed him persistently and left an indelible mark. 

First, the man had been betrayed by Tain (and Mila, let’s not forget her) then by his fellow students at the Bamarren Institute - One Charaban (Barkan bloody Lokar), even by his (not his at that point) Palandine. Pythas Lok, Dukat and then Tain again. Some humans still believed in the concept of karma and would gladly point out Elim Garak’s fate as completely deserved, but Julian just couldn’t see it that way.

So much of the memoir was written from a place of never acknowledged vulnerability.

Beneath that perfect Cardassian mask, lay something far more human than Julian ever could have suspected. Now he felt bad for ever having distanced himself from his first real friend.

The image of Garak’s training at the Pit entered his mind’s eye once more. The sweltering, oppressive heat which induced hallucinations, conjuring images of his parents and making him think he had imagined a beautiful woman stepping in from who-knows-where. Even exhausted, delirious with effort and pain, at the very edge of endurance, young Elim had felt drawn to her, like a moth to the flame. 

Julian wondered whether the erosion of his physical and emotional barriers had enabled or merely hastened the process of falling in love with Palandine?

Yet another image rushed to fill the vacant space in his brain’s backlog of mental processes.

The constant comparisons between Julian and Parmak. Garak felt indebted to the man; that much was clear. The other doctor’s fondness for his old friend was obvious, if being addressed by first name was any indication.

Julian had never dared.

It was a piece of information he had been given by Tain, and since Garak had never volunteered it, Julian had jealously guarded it to himself. Even after he had heard it from the dying lips of the head of the Obsidian Order, he dared not use it. They hadn’t been that close anymore and it had felt inappropriate.

To feel jealous of the shared camaraderie between the two men was ridiculous. Parmak seemed like a good, compassionate man and Julian could hardly begrudge Garak a source of solid emotional support. Ezri was most certainly his.

It was obvious Garak was a man haunted and tortured by his past. Julian wondered idly whether the last lines written, so brimming with hope, were enough to dispel a lifetime of dreadful experiences.

The ex-spy spoke at length of the consequences their militaristic upbringing had wrought. He seemed no longer as apologetic, or as eager to find excuses for the system whose virtues he’d once so vehemently upheld and defended. The way he spoke of Ziyal’s murder and his understanding of Damar’s actions told volumes. He was a man changed, a man who had learned to forgive.

Perhaps that was who Elim had always been, underneath all the brainwashing and conditioning.

_ “I need to know someone forgives me.” _

Julian’s forgiveness had been extorted by circumstances, because he wasn’t so callous as to deny a dying man his last wish.

Parmak’s forgiveness, on the other hand, was freely given. Even though Garak had interrogated him, making his life hell. How could such a thing be so easily forgiven? Was it simply because current circumstances allowed for nothing less?

How had Dr. Parmak put it? 

_ “Poisonous pedagogy, Elim,” he replied. “We believe what we are taught.” _

He had no idea what the man looked like, but he fancied he could imagine it well enough, stooped and sodden, dragging an unresponsive and weeping Garak back to his shed, cleaning and dressing him and making him tea. 

No, Julian was not the first person Garak had allowed a glimpse into his nightmares. Nor would he be, he suspected, the last. 

The words of Bamarren’s unyielding martial instructor floated in front of Julian’s eyes. Calyx had accused:

_ “You have no grip, no focus. How can you find your strength if you can’t hold your place? Living in your dreams is like living in exile.”  _

The implication was clear and it doubled as foreshadowing. Calyx’s words seemed prophetic, for Garak truly had lost his place in life because he dared dream. 

It was no more cruel than the awful tortures and murders the spy would go on to commit, but Julian felt it in a more immediate sense. 

There was, after all, more than one kind of exile. 

Julian’s life had always been one of emotional exile. By necessity and by choice alike.

Just another similarity Garak must have intuited.

Julian was surprised anew by his friend’s uncanny astuteness. But therein lay their crucial difference: where Julian fell comically short, Garak excelled, despite being forced to quell his natural instincts in favor of those drilled into him. 

Julian came to an arresting realization about himself at that moment. Jules _hadn’t_ died in that cold facility; he was _alive_ in _him_ – that lack of emotional awareness he so despised about himself was something not even the surgeons and geneticists of Adigeon Prime could take away or overwrite. His social awkwardness and lack of introspection… was all that was left of Jules.

Julian had always considered his lack of emotional acuity a flaw but was slowly starting to realize that it was one of the few characteristics that actually defined him and gave him any sort of distinct personality. 

He put a hand over his mouth and gasped.

Garak had seen it. He had noticed Jules.

Everyone else in his life tried to stifle that immature side of him, but Garak had been the only one to actually try to teach him and coax him into evolving on his own. Unbidden, his eyes welled with tears and he buried his face in his palms. 

Miles’s comment to him after being replaced by a Changeling was that the _thing_ he’d been supplanted by was easier to get along with. No matter how much he loved the Chief, the comment had cut to the quick. The thought of being so easily substituted and unnoticed burned. 

But Garak had never made him feel _unnoticed_, a fact which made him so absurdly grateful he wanted to fall to his knees in the man’s garden, pelted by an unrelenting, sandy rain of Cardassia. 

He wanted to be forgiven.

He wanted to be _seen_.

But most of all, he wanted a place that was welcoming to broken things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! There we go.
> 
> I wonder if anyone agrees with my feelings about Julian's forgiveness in "The Wire"? I didn't plan to have him think that way initially but this is what came out and I ran with it.


	9. Pullock V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian has a stopover on Pullock V and gets the chance to experience a Cardassian market.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a good mood since I managed to write two chapters today. To celebrate my boosted productivity, you get another chapter as well!

Julian awoke with a start, his eyes roving wildly around him to try and ascertain why the ship was suddenly rocking.

A crewman’s voice blared over the speaker system:

“We will land on Pullock V shortly and we’re stopping for two hours to take on cargo. Inbound passengers should get ready to disembark. If anyone else wishes to leave the transport to stretch their appendages, feel free, just don’t be late for take-off. Remember, we leave for Cardassia Prime at 15:00.”

Julian rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pondered the announcement as shuffling of other passengers filled the limited space. People drifted by in a poorly coordinated file, carrying and dragging their gear along. Making up his mind at last, he got up and stretched his long limbs. 

Julian knew less than two hours on the surface were not very likely to teach him much, but since he doubted he would ever find a reason to set foot on this planet again, he felt it would be a waste not to at least have a look. 

As he disembarked, he realized two things: It was bloody sweltering outside, and the infrastructure around him seemed surprisingly intact. The landing pad let out into a set of lowered ramps all fanning out in different directions. The area around him seemed a curious mixture of warehouses, various little establishments, and a sprawling market. He let his feet wander and took in the sights; this was a bustling port, teeming with people and goods and strange smells. He passed by a food stall selling some kind of spiny magenta-colored fruit and another, slightly larger metal stall where a portly Cardassian man was merrily roasting chunks of some unidentified type of meat and skewering them on a kind of dark-green reed. There was a line of Cardassian customers chatting away while waiting for their food and Julian was struck by the sheer normalcy of it all. If he’d had more time, he might have considered waiting in line for a chance to try it, but he realized he’d rather see more of the place in what little time he had. 

Scattered about were little restaurants, likely the Cardassian equivalent of fast food, vibrant in color and smell. Raucous laughter filled the air and Julian felt slightly perplexed and more than a little foolish. Why did he imagine Cardassians were always invariably solemn and cold? Perhaps because the only examples he’d had were not truly representative of the race as a whole. Surely Garak and Dukat couldn’t pass for an average Cardassian. How could they?

The institutes trained their elite. Dukat had been a more public face, whereas Garak operated in the shadows, but they had both been high-profile individuals and as such likely had as much in common with an average Cardassian as a human high-ranking Starfleet officer would have with a simple florist. 

As he passed by a stall laden with colorful fabrics, his feet ground to a halt irrespective of his wishes. A heavy burgundy cloth caught his eye. It was interwoven with a sleek geometric pattern and felt surprisingly yielding and soft to the touch, which belied its visually coarse texture. Julian knew almost nothing about textiles and lamented the fact he never bothered to ask Garak about it. Even as a proclaimed fashion disaster, he could tell the older Cardassian had a keen eye and a good sense for the trade. 

“Oh, I can see our local specialty caught your eye!” An amiable, lilting voice snapped him out of his reverie. In the doorway of the small store next to the fabric-laden stall he’d been obliviously browsing, stood a young Cardassian woman. Julian guessed she was in her mid-twenties. Her shiny black hair lay pleated across her gently sloping shoulder ridges. Unhelpfully, his mind supplied the image of Palandine caressing her neck in front of young Elim and his throat dried. He’d never thought about it before, but… What if… Were the neck ridges…

“It’s a lovely fabric, but I am not quite sure it would match your complexion... Maybe something like this?” She reached for a lighter emerald fabric and unfurled it so it caught the light, shimmering enticingly with coppery accents. 

Julian blinked stupidly, wondering how he should explain that he had no intention of buying anything when she giggled and teasingly inquired whether he’d stayed out in the sun too long.

Caught out, Julian found himself blushing. No, he did _not_ spend the last minute pondering the sensitivity of Cardassian neck ridges, not at all. Gathering his wits, he answered with a gusty laugh.

“Uh, no. That’s not it. I just saw that fabric and it reminded me of a friend. He’s a tailor, you see and it seemed like a medium he’d enjoy working with.”

“Marvelous!” She clapped her hands and smiled. The corners of her eyes crinkled pleasantly and Julian was struck by how genuine she seemed.

“That would explain why you chose the color,” she nodded sagely. “I am guessing the gentleman in question has a cooler skin tone than you?”

Julian blinked and scratched his forearm bemusedly. 

“Uh, I guess? He is Cardassian, after all.”

Her smile only grew more delighted at that (if at all possible). 

“Oh! My father is also a tailor! I’m apprenticing under him! It’s rewarding work, especially with all these aliens around.” At his questioning look, she sputtered and gestured wildly with her hands.

“Oh, no, no, that’s not what I meant! We get a lot of traffic here now, especially with the supply lines being reestablished across the Union, and there are a lot of Federation types too, Ferengi as well – their fashions are so _vibrant _and rich - it’s a wonder to behold!” 

Julian was unable to suppress an amused smile at her impassioned rambling. She was 100% genuine in her love for the subject and listening to her wax poetic about Andorian designs and Vulcan simplicity had Julian fondly remembering the way Garak had also been similarly passionate and single-minded about his love for Cardassian culture and art. 

Perhaps a defining Cardassian characteristic was not argumentativeness in itself, but rather its root cause - passion. One that was carefully controlled and concealed in their public figures, but apparently not so in plain and simple cloth merchants. 

She was effortlessly and disarmingly charming. He had a feeling his tailor friend would agree. 

Once she ran out of steam she halted, took a deep breath and seemed slightly embarrassed by her outburst. 

“Sorry about that,” she apologized. “My father says my tongue is as loose as a pack of wild riding hounds.”

“It’s quite alright,” Julian assured her. “It’s nice to see someone so enthusiastic about their work.”

She grinned widely at that and her embarrassment melted away.

“It’s good and honest work.” She proclaimed proudly. “It also makes people happy, and I think that’s very important.”

Julian found himself agreeing with her and said as much. 

The girl stood straighter at that and tried to school her features into what he assumed was her salesman mask. He was forced to admit it was a very pleasant, open one. 

“I am sure your friend could make something lovely with a bolt of that red wool damask you were looking at earlier.”

Julian sighed and admitted he hadn’t intended on buying anything and that he wasn’t even sure what they traded in here. The girl assured him they were flexible and took everything from gold-pressed latinum to bartering goods such as livestock. When he lamented his lack of livestock, she laughed and asked him what he had to trade. 

If anyone had asked him later why he’d agreed to take one bolt of burgundy and emerald fabric each, he knew he’d be quite unable to explain. 

All he knew, as he boarded his transport at 14:45 hours, was a feeling of warmth and hope burning in his heart, gut and step. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else like the unaffected loveliness of that little port market?
> 
> Any thoughts are welcome! :)


	10. Lovers and Namesakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian observes some fascinating Cardassian customs aboard the transport. They are quite eye-opening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer chapter, hopefully it whets your appetite for the day!

Julian was very surprised when he realized how many of the passengers they'd picked up on Pullock V were Cardassian. In fact, the only passenger on the ship who _wasn't_ Cardassian was him. 

It shouldn't have been such a surprise, really. They were headed into the heart of Cardassian space and he supposed no alien in their right mind would go to Cardassia Prime nowadays unless they were part of the Federation relief effort or an extremely adventurous volunteer. Julian supposed he fell somewhere in the middle. 

He had arranged the two bolts of fabric to be put with the rest of his cargo and reminded the captain (a somber looking Bolian by the name of Xam Qegit) to beam the crates at the coordinates Julian would send once he actually found his friend’s house in the ruins of the Paldar Sector. 

He noticed the Cardassians were trying not to stare at him too obviously (the adult ones at least), but the few children aboard weren’t as successful at hiding their curiosity and unabashed interest. 

“Mother, what’s that?” A little boy of about four years old asked, pointing straight at Julian. 

The mother’s solemn grey eyes flickered to his face briefly and she seemed to hide her embarrassment behind a stern face.

“The proper question would be: Who is that, not what, son. And he is human, a Federation race.”

Julian schooled his face into utter seriousness, trying not to appear either offended or amused. Curiosity was strong though, and he found himself listening in and trying to watch from the corner of his eye. 

“What is Federation, mother?”

Julian could hear the woman sigh. He’d be lying if he claimed her answer to the boy didn’t interest him. What _did_ an average Cardassian think of the Federation? Did Garak’s opinion match with theirs? Did all Cardassians just see a sprawling Empire engaged in a never-ending quest for growth using a diplomacy-based expansion model to absorb countless planets without a drop of blood being shed? Julian supposed that might be frightening to some if they came from a society which hinged so heavily on propaganda and manipulation. 

“The United Federation of Planets is like our Cardassian Union, except other races live there.”

“No Cardassians?” The boy looked at his mother in wide-eyed wonder.

“No, dear,” she said in clear exasperation. “No Cardassians there.”

“Why not?” The little one inquired in childish bewilderment.

The woman let out a long suffering sigh and said:

“Elim, you are too inquisitive today. Settle down and let me rest, we’ll have a lot of work to do once we land on Prime.”

The boy shut up obediently and plopped to the floor, where he proceeded to jab his little fingers on a Cardassian PADD, likely playing some age-appropriate game. 

Julian was left gobsmacked. 

It wasn’t even the tired mother’s mild explanation that had his mind spinning, although Julian was sure it was a contributing factor. Too many pre-conceived notions were crumbling around his ears today. 

First it was the unexpectedly friendly cloth peddler who left him refreshed and invigorated and now there was someone who didn’t outright demonize the political system he hailed from. All that aside, here he was, in a transport full of Cardassians and there was hardly a hostile look – merely weary travelers, going home. 

And that little innocent boy who shared the name with a man who got taught all the wrong things.

What was it Tolan had said?

_ “Look at them. With young minds you can plant anything and it grows into ideas and beliefs.” _

That day Garak spent with his uncle at Tarlak sector was significant.

Tolan had tried to reach Garak before it was too late, not realizing the futility of his efforts. Tain, Bamarren and Lokar had beaten him to it, molding Elim with sharp angles. 

A simple touch on the shoulder from the man who had been his father (in all but genetic material) was of such import that Garak still remembered it vividly. Julian couldn’t imagine anything sadder than that. 

And here sat a little boy called Elim who seemed to have a mother with a better head on her shoulders. If he were religious, he would pray the fates or gods be kind to the child; kinder than they had been to his namesake. 

Julian remembered being surprised to read that Mila had been so ambitious. He could understand that a mother would want her child to get ahead in the world; after all, it was exactly what his parents had done. It rankled that it always seemed to be at the child’s expense. Mila had wanted her son to rise above the service class and attain a higher status. What she failed to understand was that Garak would have been much happier to stay a gardener and tend to the public spaces of Tarlak Sector.

That tailor’s daughter seemed happy with her job.

Tolan had seemed equally fulfilled and proud of his.

Garak’s job only ever brought him pain. Julian was ashamed that he failed to notice something so vital.

How many other things had managed to slip by him over the years? What other nuances remained stubbornly out of reach because he failed to pay attention?

What else did he miss?

_ “So much of what we see and hear is not the truth of any given situation; sometimes it’s necessary to close the eyes and be still, to extend our awareness  _ beyond_ what we’ve been conditioned to believe is our field of sensory operation. Only then can we learn the patience to trust that _all _the information that we need will come to us.”_

Could it be so simple?

Julian willed his senses to sharpen and looked around. He allowed his mind to abandon all thought of future research, all analyses of Garak’s letter, all lingering reflections on societal perceptions and let it be filled entirely by the information hidden in his surroundings.

His mind worked the incoming sensory data with frightening speed, calculating the air composition and noting the oxygen levels were on the lower end of recommended, but not low enough to cause any problems yet. There were 27 Cardassians in the passenger section, little Elim with his parents (his father was quiet and withdrawn, lost somewhere in his own world and the mother was dozing off in her seat); another family with three children, one of them a tiny bundle in his father’s arms and an assortment of loners, couples and what appeared to be an ancient Cardassian woman with the longest white hair he had ever seen who was currently admonishing her grand-daughter for braiding her hair wrong.

“You must smooth each strand, my dear. Not so willy-nilly. You’ll make me look as unkempt as a Targ!”

“And that would be such a shame, Grandma, if a Klingon mistook you for one and hunted you down.” The teenager sniped sarcastically in what Julian would characterize as typical teen behavior were it not for the gentle smile and the twinkle in the girl’s eye. She must love the old matriarch quite a bit, Julian mused. He also noted how the girl took the criticism to heart and slowed her movements, indeed smoothing every strand gently as she wove the silvery tresses into a sophisticated pattern. The delicate motions entranced him; the intricate movements of the girl’s nimble fingers interlacing the old woman’s flowing hair with such a reverent attention it commanded all of his focus. At certain points, the girl would take proffered hair ornaments from her grandmother’s wrinkled gray hands and secure a few sections of hair to the back of the old lady’s head. It continued like that for the better part of an hour and Julian noticed, with likely poorly concealed interest, that the teen’s arms and fingers were beginning to cramp, at least judging by the way she flexed her digits and had to raise her arms minutely; frowning at the way her body responded. Despite it all, even after more admonishments from the cantankerous madam, not once did she complain or even attempt to stop. Her hands worked tirelessly at the increasingly complicated coiffure she was constructing and Julian felt his respect for the girl grow. 

It was such a seemingly banal thing, doing an old woman’s hair. But to this girl, it demanded her full attention and Julian marveled at the respect, patience and effort the young lady was pouring into the ritual. No, this definitely wasn’t a simple thing. His heart hammered in his chest as the child struggled to keep her attention on the last few stubborn strands of hair. The delicate plaiting was taking a toll and she was now biting her lower lip in unwavering concentration. If she were human, Julian was fairly certain she’d have been sweating profusely from the exertion. With rapt attention, he observed the thin, trembling fingers tucking and then pinning the last tiny plait in place. 

“Fetch my mirror, dear.” The matron said and he could hear the girl’s neck pop softly as she leaned down to rummage in the bag. Once the object in question was wordlessly and obediently procured, the girl snapped a latch and what Julian had presumed to be an ornate copper-case housing the precious object, opened and unclasped into two matching mirrors. The teenager patiently handed one of them to her grandmother and propped the other one behind the elaborate hairdo unprompted. Julian wouldn’t be surprised if this was something the two did often.

The ancient Cardassian raised the mirror and in that moment Julian felt like he was watching a Hebitian queen. 

“It’s acceptable, Kaya.” She said simply. 

Julian was tempted to call the harridan something awful when he noticed the girl’s reaction.

Kaya’s eyes welled with tears which she tried to blink away and her entire face lit up with a look of such unmistakable pride it took Julian’s breath away. The same kind of pride was clearly mirrored in the subtly softening look in the grandmother’s eyes. 

This covert exchange between the two would have completely passed beneath his notice even a mere day ago. He felt absurdly humbled and extremely privileged to have witnessed it. 

“Don’t cry, silly girl. A woman should die with dignity. Have I not managed to teach you anything?”

Kaya wiped her tears away surreptitiously and straightened her back until she looked almost perfectly poised, but the crack in her voiced betrayed her strong emotion.

“Don’t be silly, Grandmother, you will outlive me by a century at least.”

The old woman let out a put-upon sigh and patted her granddaughter’s knee gently. 

“Flattery might open many doors, my child, but there are some doors death closes quite definitively. You must make peace with that.”

“Grandma, I-“ Kaya choked on the words, tears spilling down her now openly anguished face.

“You are a competent young woman now, Kaya. Don’t forget that. I may be going back home to Prime to see the beauty of its sunrise one last time before life fails me and I am buried where I belong, but you will get an opportunity there to pursue your dream. Our home planet has lost so many people they need every last able-bodied and astute individual to help them rebuild a society all Cardassians can be proud of. Your status will matter not a whit in such circumstances.”

The girl closed her eyes in an effort to stop them from leaking and buried her face into the old woman’s chest. He averted his eyes from the sight, leaving them a modicum of privacy and wondered what issues of status worried the girl.

Was she service class, or was it a question of being orphaned once her grandmother died? Not for the first time, Julian lamented the lack of information available on the subject and cursed himself for not asking Garak more when he had the chance. All those years and he never bothered asking about these things, choosing rather to read the books his friend recommended in the most superficial manner possible. What an unmitigated idiot he’d been. 

He distracted himself from the two women whose conversation dropped into almost entirely inaudible murmurs by watching other passengers.

There was a woman around Garak’s age, poring over a PADD and staunchly ignoring everyone around her. She might be going to Cardassia Prime on business. Research of some kind? She traveled very light from what he could see. 

His eyes flickered over to little Elim who was now wandering around, obviously bored. The child was very inquisitive from what Julian could gather and he felt his face stretch into a fond smile. It had never occurred to him that Cardassians had their own popular first names and that there was bound to be people sharing the same one. Julian was not perhaps the most common of human names, but it wasn’t exactly exotic either. He wondered idly where on the spectrum from very common to exotic Garak’s first name fell. 

He had no idea what it meant, but he concluded it was a nice name. It sounded… gentle, somehow.

His gaze wandered to a young couple who seemed quite taken with one another and chose to listen in on their conversation. They were speaking in hushed tones and he guessed other Cardassians couldn’t hear them, but his enhanced senses allowed him to overhear every word. 

“Crin, you should stop worrying so much. The admission process must have changed; the docents at the Art Institute would have to be fools not to take you.”

The young woman’s voice was impassioned and fierce, but her companion shook his head.

“Cardassia Prime needs builders, doctors and farmers, not artists.”

“That’s not true! It is in times like these we need artists the most - to bridge the gap between unimaginable horror and an uncertain future!”

“Eja, stop living in dreams… You grew up privileged; you are used to having opportunities a service man like me could never even begin to imagine. Before the war, no one in their right mind would sponsor a sewage maintenance worker’s son for anything! And now…”

“Now we at least have the chance. Without the war… we never could have gotten enjoined.”

Her voice was a curious mixture of heartbreak and hope. 

Crin spoke softly, his voice full of admiration and respect.

“I never would have wished something so terrible to befall your family. I was content to watch you from afar.” 

The refined young lady was quiet for a long moment and then leaned her forehead against his in a gentle and intimate gesture. He had soft features for a Cardassian and Julian noted that the young man’s ridges weren’t as pronounced as he would expect for a fully grown male of his species. Perhaps he still had to grow into them. 

Eja gave a broken little laugh and murmured softly:

“Losing everyone in the bombardment wasn’t what I’d have wanted for myself either… It was mere luck I was away from Prime when it happened. I was told there’s nothing left of the house… You will go with me to Coranum, won’t you? As the sole survivor, I am entitled to the rubble. Maybe something survived… If the looters haven’t gotten to it first, that is.” She finished bitterly.

Crin looked at her solemnly, like a man vowing to do everything asked of him, no matter how impossible. His gentle brown eyes burned with determination. 

Julian watched him offer his open palm in a familiar gesture Garak and Ziyal used to perform. Eja aligned her own palm with his and Crin repeated the gesture with his other hand. The girl looked at her beloved and her face was a web of complexity. Once both of their palms were aligned on either side, Julian noted curiously that Crin interlocked his fingers with Eja’s and after a breathless moment, she responded in kind, grasping his hand firmly. A breathless little gasp escaped her and the gesture was repeated with the other hand. 

“I offer you my hearth and home.” She murmured earnestly, almost like she was giving an oath.

Crin’s eyes blazed in the half-light and his voice turned firm and unwavering as he responded with:

“I offer you my blood and bone.”

Eja looked at him like he was the most important thing in existence and Julian assumed it was so. 

“I give you the softness of my skirts.” She continued, her voice more fervent than before.

“And I give you my grain.” Crin promised, his voice aquiver with something close to uncertainty.

“I promise to grow your roots.” Her voice vibrated with passion.

“And I promise life-giving rain.” Crin finished breathlessly.

Eja seemed to be blinking away tears and brought her forehead back to his, breathing deeply.

Whatever that little ritual had been, Julian was certain it was over. The pair breathed softly, their eyes closed, their fingers still twined and Julian could swear their heartbeats were perfectly synchronized as well.

It was obviously terribly romantic. He only wished he knew what it meant. For a race so obsessed with meticulous record-keeping, they seemed equally and frustratingly meticulous about keeping said records out of alien hands. What Julian wouldn’t give for a book on Cardassian customs!

Julian was certain that a lot of the nuance and beauty of the lovers’ speech was lost in the process of translation and he wished he could take back time so he’d get the opportunity to hear it in its unspoiled form. 

Taken by his idea, he turned his universal translator off and immersed himself in the harsh vocalizations of Kardassi that surrounded him.

He could no longer rely on words to give him crucial context, but he kept watching and listening anyways. There was a unique cadence to it, he could tell. Pity the language in its native form sounded quite challenging for a human vocal apparatus to produce. He wondered if greeting Garak in his native tongue would prompt one of the man’s rare impressed looks. 

Julian felt compelled to at least try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun inventing Cardassian customs for my inscrutable purposes. I worked from what we know about their society and made some conclusions. 
> 
> I wonder what you think about the little hair ritual? 
> 
> Likewise, I'd really like to know your thoughts about what happened between that young couple! 
> 
> This may not be such a plot-heavy story, but I do set things up for later! :D


	11. Guides and Guidance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian learns more about Cardassian customs and disembarks on Cardassia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Cardassian customs! :D

At the first blare of the ship's internal comm system, Julian switched his translator back on. 

“We’ve been cleared for landing on Cardassia Prime and should touch ground in approximately fifteen minutes. All cargo delivery shall be dealt with as previously arranged. Thank you for your patronage and stay safe.”

Julian stood and popped his neck and shoulders to which he received some alarmed looks, but he paid them little mind. He could safely say he wasn’t the most liked person on board. While there haven’t been any incidents and he’d been left to his devices, the business-like lady from before was scrutinizing him as if he were a particularly disgusting specimen, and one of the burlier men was being terribly unsubtle with his glares. Julian wondered what the problem was. Was it truly just xenophobia? Or was it a more general kind of distrust towards people whose intentions were unknown? Would he be equally untrusting if he were in their shoes? Julian didn’t know. At least no one had been openly hostile, verbal or otherwise.

Anyhow, a strange play was unfolding in front of his eyes and he noticed the Cardassians moving in concert as if according to an unspoken rule. The ancient woman with blindingly white hair (and a wonderfully stylish updo) was unquestioningly allowed to go first. She seemed satisfied by the looks of deferral and everyone else’s respectful nods. 

They weren’t nods exactly, more like deliberate inclinations of their faces downwards, coupled with averting their eyes to the ground. 

It was a dance of deep respect; executed flawlessly by everyone in the group, including the children. For a moment, Julian thought she must be someone quite important, only to remember a very old conversation with Garak. It had been a few days before his thirtieth birthday. He’d been complaining about his age to a bemused Elim, who didn’t understand his childish grousing.

_ “I wasn’t aware that humans saw growing old as a negative experience. On Cardassia, advanced age is seen as a sign of power, dignity.” _

At the time, he’d dismissed Garak’s words for empty platitudes, but the curious way his lunch companion emphasized that last word now gave him pause. On Cardassia, elders obviously enjoyed immense respect. He wondered what age a Cardassian had to be to receive this kind of treatment.

Was Elim now in a category which would afford him such regard?

How old was his friend anyway? Julian had always assumed Garak had over a decade on him, but whether it was a fifteen, twenty or twenty-five year difference, he couldn’t safely say. It cast every interaction they’d ever had into an interesting light. Julian was aware he had the unfortunate tendency to come across as a bit of a brat, but Garak never seemed to mind it overly much. Perhaps such irreverent behavior amused him. 

Garak had been quite brazen at their first meeting, hadn’t he? Taking the reins of the conversation and guiding it along despite Julian’s bumbling efforts to steer it in a different direction. As a matter of fact, looking back on that first interaction, Julian was slightly mortified by his inelegant performance. He’d been so wrong-footed, so tongue-tied and so terribly nervous. 

And those damned hands on his shoulders. What the hell had that been about? Julian assumed it was just the spy’s tactic to keep him uncomfortable and off-balance. He chuckled to himself. It had only half worked, hadn’t it?

How would that gesture read to a Cardassian? Would it be demeaning? Mocking? Provocative?

Julian swallowed thickly.

The people around him were clustering and clutching their children, spouses or possessions as they waited for the ship to touch down. This file was almost suspiciously orderly and he noted that a small hierarchy had crystallized before him. The old woman stood closest to the exit, supported by her teenage granddaughter who also carried their luggage. Behind them stood the officious and unpleasant lady who’d been scrutinizing him earlier, immediately after her the couple with several children and the baby, then Elim and his tired parents, followed by a smattering of couples interspersed by loners and the two young lovers, Eja and Crin, stood side by side at the very end of the file. Assuming being human (or any other form of alien) was the lowest one could get in the pecking order, he didn’t even bother trying to cut in. 

After all, when in Rome…

He took his duffle bag, slung the mysterious black cylinder over his shoulder and strode past a third of the line to stand patiently behind the young couple. 

The young man’s eyes widened in surprise. Julian wondered what crucial social context must have eluded him this time when the soft-featured Cardassian spoke:

“Do you wish to precede me, sir?”

Eja looked over her shoulder crossly and nearly hissed at her partner.

“What are you saying, beloved? He is not Cardassian!”

Crin merely looked at her soothingly and explained:

“That may be so, but he is a Starfleet officer – a soldier. He may be an alien, but he still outranks me. Come to think of it, he outranks most people in here. They just didn’t bother pointing it out to him because they think he’s-“

“There’s no need to point out anything, Crin! He’s not one of us.”

Julian schooled his face into a mask of benevolent politeness. The young lady’s upbringing was really showing. In love with a service man or not, her opinions could hardly all be fully progressive. 

“On my home planet, Earth, we consider it polite to wait at the end of the line once it has been formed. Of course, there can be exceptions made for pregnant women or the elderly, but it’s essentially a first-come-first-served kind of deal. We make absolutely no distinction according to gender or class.”

Eja looked utterly scandalized, but her partner seemed equal parts curious and amazed.

Julian gave him a mellow smile.

“How do you get anything done then?” Eja asked skeptically. 

“Politely and respectfully towards everyone.” Julian said simply. 

Eja narrowed her eyes at him and asked haughtily:

“Even criminals?”

Julian wondered what she was trying to accomplish. Crime was severely punished on Cardassia, everyone knew that. He sighed.

“Yes, even criminals. At least we try to.”

“Whatever for?” The young woman’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Experience has taught us that people respond better to being treated with respect than they do to being treated with disdain.”

Julian watched her mouth snap shut and her face close off. At once, she turned away from him and Crin’s soft gaze followed her. Despite her poorly concealed shock at his likely inflammatory statement, Julian was glad he’d voiced his opinion. Still, he wasn’t unsympathetic – it was just the way she was taught. 

“I am sorry about that,” Crin offered apologetically. “You have to understand, this is a very difficult time for our people. You may find our sense of hospitality somewhat lacking in present circumstances. I hope you don’t take offense at my beloved’s words, she’d meant no disrespect.”

Eja hissed something about being needlessly servile at her lover, but he seemed to dismiss it with a gentle fondness.

“Regardless, my name is Crin Pem. May I ask for yours?”

Such politeness perplexed Julian. A son of a sewage maintenance worker seemed about the lowest on the totem pole of Cardassian complex societal hierarchy and Julian wondered whether that meant he had to be unfailingly polite to everyone because of it. First stirs of pity gripped at his heart and he felt such a kind man deserved a chance to get accepted to whatever Institute he wished.

“It’s Julian Bashir, I am a doctor.” He offered pleasantly.

Crin’s eyes lit up and a most endearing smile blossomed on his smooth gray face.

“Do you hear that, Eja? A doctor! Are you staying on Cardassia to help in one of the hospitals?”

The boy’s sincere enthusiasm was so disarming that Julian couldn’t help but laugh in capitulation. 

“I am bringing some supplies with me to aid the relief effort. I’m afraid it’s unofficial and at my initiative, which means it’s sadly limited in scope, but I am hoping it will provide at least some small measure of comfort to those it reaches. I didn’t ask ahead about work in a hospital, but I wouldn’t be opposed to volunteering for awhile. I can certainly open a small field hospital somewhere if it’s needed.”

Crin’s gaze revealed naked admiration, but it was Eja’s wavering little voice that pierced him next.

“Why would a random human wish to help Cardassia?” There was a measure of weary accusation to her tone, but it was tinged with disbelief.

Julian looked at her softly.

“Because I am a doctor. I cannot stand idly by and ignore such suffering; it would go against everything I believe in.”

“You could have gone to one of your Federation planets, like Betazed,” she scoffed. “Why Cardassia?”

Julian sighed wearily and relented; offering her the truth:

“Betazed can get help from almost any Federation doctor, but I chose this planet because… a friend lives here. He invited me and I kindly accepted.”

“You have a Cardassian friend?” She looked at him incredulously, like he’d suddenly sprouted extra limbs.

Taking a page out of Garak’s book, he offered her the most dazzling smile from his bedside manner arsenal and said sweetly:

“Is that so hard to believe?”

She sputtered, but commented no further because the hissing sounds of the freighter’s airlocks releasing obviously brought her back to reality of their imminent disembarking. 

He watched as some of them shielded their eyes from the glare of the late afternoon sun. Julian plodded along, waiting for everyone else to disembark first, which was done remarkably quickly and in an orderly fashion. 

When his turn came, he gripped the straps of his luggage tightly and stepped out into the oppressive heat of Cardassia. The first lungful of air made him cough and he realized it must have been the dust. Slowing his breathing and making certain he only inhaled through his nose from now on, he attempted to get his bearings. What must have been a minor port once, now lay strewn about grotesquely. He looked towards the city and the skyline was… nonexistent, to put it politely.

Every way he looked lay complete devastation: gutted buildings, charred land and hastily assembled dwellings stretched across the landscape.

Sadness filled his heart. This sight must have been _devastating_ for Elim. 

“Hey, you lost?”

Julian startled. The voice seemed awfully young.

“Yes, you, brownish skinny alien. You look like you need a guide.”

Julian blinked stupidly and turned right to the source of the casual insult and noticed a gangly boy of perhaps eight, staring up at him impatiently. 

“Why do you think I need a guide?” Julian asked curiously.

The child shot him a look of utter annoyance and Julian has the impression the boy had concluded he was an idiot.

“Only first-comers loiter around so _obviously._” The gangly creature rolled its dark eyes in exasperation.

Julian had no response to that.

“As I said, you obviously need a guide, so, first you’ll tell me where you want to go and then I’ll tell you how much it’ll cost you. All right?”

Julian huffed incredulously at the imperious manner of the diminutive Cardassian before him. He wasn’t sure what the kid was playing at, but then he remembered how bad the situation was for the people living here and he didn’t have the heart to refuse him.

“May I know your name before you take all my money?” Julian quipped.

He could swear the boy’s eye-ridge twitched and then his guide shrugged.

“Rekat.”

“Nice to meet you, Rekat. My name is Julian.” He offered the boy a sincere smile.

Not that it made any difference. Rekat seemed to brush off his pleasantries as meaningless and pressed on:

“Where are you headed? And tell me you have something decent to trade in there. I don’t work for free, you know?”

Julian straightened and turned serious. Most of the supply crates held useful items, but the cargo wouldn’t be delivered until he found Garak’s coordinates and had it all beamed down. He pondered his options for a moment and decided he could spare a single package of Delavian chocolates; after all, he had three. He unzipped his bag and pulled out a package.

“I have some Delavian chocolates, if that’s worth anything to you.”

Julian swore he saw a flash of calculated greed in those little eyes and the boy seemed mollified.

“Everything is worth something to someone. I’ll take it. Now, where are you headed?”

“Uh, to a place in the Paldar sector.”

Rekat whistled and said:

“Which part? Depending on your answer, I might have to charge extra.”

Julian recognized the ploy for what it was and played along.

“Oh, it’s close to a kind of makeshift rubble memorial. Supposedly people go there to pray for their dead.”

Something seemed to click in the boy’s eyes and Julian assumed that meant Rekat knew exactly where to go.

“Shame.” The child spoke candidly. “That’s one of the safer places.”

Julian knew it might be an absurd thought, but he’d like to believe it was safe because Garak kept watch. 

“Then there’s no problem, is there?”

Rekat shrugged again and said:

“Hope you got some water, you’ll need it. It will take us around three units of time to get there.”

Julian had half a dozen water packets in his duffle bag, along with chocolates, an energy bar and some light, wrinkle resistant clothing. Nestled in there was a shaver, a tricorder and a small medkit – he felt naked without one.

Julian offered one of the water satchels to his guide who took it with no words of thanks. Clean water must be a rare commodity on Cardassia at the moment.

“Follow me.” The boy commanded and promptly took off in the direction of the broken skyline.

Julian steeled himself and followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally on Cardassia! Joy! Exultation! Humoring children!
> 
> Sorry, it's late and I'm both hyper and dead tired...


	12. Through Devastation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian gets a better idea about the purpose of his trip as he travels across the ruins of Cardassia City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer!

Julian observed the filthy Cardassian child leading the way. He was certain he’d never seen any member of the species so disheveled or dusty. His clothes looked old and hung slightly on his narrow frame, but they appeared carefully mended. Julian hoped the boy had someone he could turn to and rely on – the source of those tidy patches, perhaps.

There was not a lot of foot traffic. Or any other kind of traffic, to be honest.

Every now and then, a skimmer would gleam somewhere in the distance, but the streets were mostly empty. The only activity he could see were small clusters of people busy rebuilding. It seemed like harsh, back-breaking work, but the Cardassians were all moving swiftly and efficiently with no complaints whatsoever. Their unity of motion and sense of purpose touched Julian. He felt… uplifted. There was a strong sense of solidarity in the local community. These people had roots, and no matter how harsh their land was, how unyielding the heat their sun gave off, they were doing their best to rebuild. 

A lot of the main thoroughfares had been cleared of rubble, but the pavements were uneven, cracked and in places riddled with small craters. Ground vehicles would have a hard time getting over such terrain, and on foot, it was slow going. 

His little guide would occasionally bark out directions and Julian did his best to follow. They meandered across the ravaged cityscape and the sights pulled at him. There were ghostly imprints of previous elegance, shimmering like dissolving holograms \- superimposed against the wreckage of once meticulously designed buildings and public spaces. Cardassia had once been severe and rigid, yet there was beauty and elegance in its unyielding strength. His mind ran endless calculations, wove complex algorithms and reconstruction matrices and he could almost, _almost _see Cardassia as it was before the war. 

Imposing and beautiful.

Austere and refined.

Garak’s home.

And perhaps, most of all…

_ Elim’s _ _ beating heart. _

He ignored the stinging in his eyes, blaming the humid, blasting wind. Most of the tailor’s life had been an exercise in patience, self-effacement, and sacrifice for things that didn’t seem especially worth it. Things he didn’t even seem to want. Of course, Julian had no idea whether any of the assassinations or interrogations made a lasting impact on the welfare of the Cardassian people, but he supposed an operative had to truly believe in what they were doing, at least most of the time, or they’d go insane. 

Julian shook his head. None of this mattered. It was all in the distant past. Those were the formative years; actions taken long ago nobody could take back or amend. Garak had chosen to move past it. 

Was it only Julian still dredging it up and keeping the foul specter alive?

He didn’t want to be.

Garak had been grateful to him for reminding him of his purpose.

Garak had thanked him for giving him a lifeto _live_. 

Julian wondered when he managed to forget the valuable life lesson he’d been taught by Lisa Cusak? The memory was more bitter than sweet. She’d been trapped on an L-class planet after the ship she commanded, the USS _Olympia,_ crashed through a strange energy barrier, leaving her the sole survivor; slowly dying of carbon dioxide poisoning. The phenomenon of her transmissions being sent into the future and the Defiant’s responses managing to get to her in the past still felt like a miracle. She died hoping help was on the way. They were only three years and two months too late. 

She had taught him to voice what he felt, to remind his friends he cared about them, even if he didn’t always show it. _Especially_ because he rarely showed it.

Why had he not extended that courtesy to Garak, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps their friendship had grown too distant at that point. And here he was, making a pilgrimage across a desolate post-apocalyptic landscape. All the things he couldn’t say, couldn’t _cheapen_ by writing them and sending them over subspace, he would carry with him to his final destination. He would accumulate dust in his hair, eyes, mouth, and clothes. He would perspire in the perpetual march, walking until his muscles seized and he felt every stretch of itchy skin, every extended tendon, and every protesting joint. He had to. He owed it to Garak.

_ “I’m an unfinished man, Doctor.” _

They both were. Julian knew it.

Just another coincidence.

_ “I believe in coincidences. Coincidences happen every day. But I don’t trust coincidences.” _

No, this trip was no coincidence. Did Garak know what an impact his missive would have? Did he calculate the odds for it in that brilliant head of his? Perhaps he already knew Julian was coming. Someone on DS9 could have tipped him off. What a waste of a good surprise that would be. Not to mention a waste of penitence.

Was this just self-castigation? Julian wasn’t sure. It didn’t feel self-destructive enough. He was getting something from this. There was an idea in his mind, a concept he couldn’t grasp. Sadly, it was still vague and unformed, leaving Julian blindly snatching at its penumbral edges. It proved stubbornly elusive, but could no longer pass unnoticed now that Julian knew it was there. There was something about Cardassia that drew out the unexplored, unvisited places in his mind. 

Once again, his eyes found industrious individuals repairing some kind of machine in the ruins, and if they could make sense out of such chaos, perhaps there was hope for him yet.

Julian squeezed a gulp of water from a packet, attempting to soothe his raw throat. The heat was oppressive, it was around 38 degrees Celsius, with about 87% humidity in his estimation (give or take a percent or two). He thanked his ancestors for passing on genes and adaptations suitable for surviving desert conditions because he shuddered to think what state a Scandinavian would be in at this point. It wasn’t so much the heat, as it was humidity, though. Compared to the moderate 22°C at DS9, this was quite hellish.

Garak must love it. At least he would no longer be cold. That thought at least made Julian smile.

“We’re almost out of the Tarlak Sector; we should be there in about twenty metrics.”

Julian acknowledged his little guide’s words with a nod and followed. He debated asking Rekat about the Tarlak Grounds, but he wasn’t sure he had the energy to see the monuments now. He suspected the disappointment of watching them all crumbled away would be too much to bear in his current state. Besides, he had time.

The superior quality of the architecture was noticeable once they crossed into the Paldar Sector. The designs were more elaborate here, despite most of the buildings being in no state to show it. A lot of the houses were razed to the ground. The streets of Elim’s childhood were gone.

Julian sighed and pressed on. 

Rekat took him around and through increasingly narrow passageways and Julian thought how ironic it would be if he got killed by falling masonry within a hundred meters of Garak’s home. Unable to suppress it, he chuckled to himself.

“What’s funny?” The boy asked suspiciously.

“Nothing.” Julian smiled. “I am simply looking forward to seeing my friend again.”

“Well, do you know how far from the memorial cairns this friend of yours lives?”

“Not far,” Julian assured. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

Rekat looked at him and grinned deviously.

“In that case, you won’t mind if I leave you there?”

Julian regarded the boy and smiled in bemusement. 

“Why would I mind? That was the deal, wasn’t it?”

His little guide did the first unexpected thing then. He laughed. It was a sincere laugh, too, with closed eyes, belly clutching and everything. 

Rekat was a good boy. Julian softened and forgot all about the pain in his shoulders and feet, and as such was quite unable to stop his hand from reaching out and ruffling the child’s hair.

With wide eyes, Rekat jumped away and cussed him out in something his translator must have found entirely too indecent to even attempt to convert into the Queen’s English. 

“Not the hair, shitstain! Do you know how hard it is to keep it clean and tidy?! Not to mention how expensive the oil is! Don’t you know _anything_?”

Julian was surprised by the outburst, but he wasn’t offended. He knew Cardassians valued cleanliness, but saying that out loud in these circumstances would be in poor taste, so he allowed himself to be berated at length about his alienness and stupidity. 

He tried, he really tried, but the more colorful the boy’s raving got, the more he felt his face contort and he started laughing like crazy. Deep, body-shuddering laughs too, ones that make you double over and tear up. 

Locked in his little temper tantrum, Rekat grit his teeth and nearly growled out: 

“Are you mocking me?” 

Julian settled down and felt a sense of utter calm envelop him. Mock a child? 

_ Oh, Elim. How could I ever do that? _

“I apologize, Rekat. It was inconsiderate of me. Ruffling a child’s hair is considered a sign of affection where I’m from and I must have forgotten why I shouldn’t do it. Once again, I am sorry. I wasn’t mocking you, either.” Here, Julian let his voice drop lower and dipped his head down in what he hoped was a decent enough gesture of respect before he spoke once more:

“I just found it… nice when you laughed, that’s all.” 

Rekat looked at him warily and dead-panned:

“You’re stupid.”

Julian snorted but accepted it with good grace.

His guide seemed at least partly mollified by his apology and huffed:

“Well, as soon as we round that corner over there, you’ll no longer be my responsibility, so I don’t care.”

Julian sensed there was something strange about that statement, so he asked the boy to elaborate.

Rekat rolled his eyes. 

“Guides are responsible for the people they lead. If they are no good, people die.”

Julian narrowed his eyes.

“Who dies? Bad guides or bad customers?”

With a predatory flash of teeth, the tiny Cardassian explained with glee:

“Either. Both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else loves that little spitfire of a guide?
> 
> What do you think about Julian's impressions? 
> 
> As always, I can't wait to hear your thoughts! No, really, I could talk about this all day.


	13. Edosian Orchid Trapped in Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Garak reunite, at long last.

“Well, let’s get moving, the sun’s about to set and we’re almost there.” Rekat instructed.

Julian wiped his sweaty palms on his dusty uniform. He shouldn’t have worn it, he knew. He wasn’t here in any sort of official capacity and it could potentially send the wrong message, but he hadn’t wanted to ruin his civilian clothes. Starfleet uniforms were at least durable and resistant to most forms of environmental abuse. It was even doing an admirable job of keeping him cool in this heat, but he knew any kind of prolonged exposure to Cardassian climate would invariably put the poor thing through the wringer. Julian fervently hoped Garak wouldn’t complain about the smell since there was not much Julian could do. He had brought an antiperspirant, but it clearly wasn’t cut out for the job. 

Rekat took him through the remains of a razed building and through a demolished doorway whose matching door was lying discarded in a pile of rubble nearby. 

The boy came to a dead stop about a meter ahead and pointed a finger to his left.

“They’re right through there; you can see the edge of one of them from where I’m standing.”

Julian practically leaped to the spot and searched frantically for the promised marker. He thanked the boy with a distracted smile, handed him the box of chocolates and let his feet guide him to the indicated place. 

Julian's heart was hammering in his chest and he could barely hear his little guide's parting words through the roaring of blood in his ears. Nothing penetrated the intense focus, and the crunch of mortar and dust underfoot barely registered. He glided ever closer to his destination like a man possessed. Where was it? 

Where was the garden of Edosian Orchids; where was Tolan’s shed?

Once he rounded the bend, he found himself between towering piles of rubble jutting into the sky. With all the surrounding area reduced to dust, they stood a proud landmark. With trembling fingers, he touched the nearest one. Every stone, shard and bent piece of metal had passed through Elim’s calloused fingers.

Julian stood there, immobile, trying to catch his breath. The light around him was dimming and he tore his eyes from the monuments to take in the riot of strong colors painted across the sky by the setting sun. 

He thought he had never seen anything half as beautiful just as fate conspired to prove him wrong.

For right there, in the chaotically resplendent light of the bleeding Cardassian sun; on his knees, with his back turned to him, sat a very familiar figure.

Julian watched utterly transfixed, drinking in the sight of his long-lost friend puttering around what looked like a flowerbed of achingly wonderful flowers. The backdrop of Tolan’s shed and surrounding ruins awash in a sea of crimson light stole what little breath he had left. The uncharacteristically thin figure pruned the plants and rearranged the soil around them efficiently. 

Julian was struck with a powerful need to make sure it really _was _Garak, even though his mind was already supplying him with an endless stream of proof, from the shape of the exposed nape to the distance between the shoulders. His hair was longer, his clothes dustier but it was him. It could be no other.

The unconscious desire to eliminate the distance between them breathed motion into his recalcitrant limbs. He moved along a trajectory, his footfalls sure and measured despite his mind screaming _faster, FASTER _with each insufficient step. 

He ground to a halt about ten meters away and willed his traitorous body to stifle the rising panic. Would Garak even want to see him? Julian stood there frozen, his body quivering with something inexplicable and all-consuming. 

And when the warm, welcoming voice washed over his raw nerves like a soothing balm, he clutched his left forearm with bruising force to stop the trembling.

“You’re early, Doctor.”

Julian’s mind jumped into overdrive. He couldn’t help but analyze _everything_. Garak’s voice was lightly teasing, subtly pleased and so very welcoming. But how? How could he have been noticed? Garak’s back was still turned!

He stammered in shock.

“How… how did you know it was me?”

In the next second, he was nearly startled out of his skin as Garak’s head snapped back, sending the jet black strands of thick hair flying around his face. The gardener’s eyes were wide, his mouth was slack and Julian could barely process when or how the man managed to rise to his feet with such unnatural, rigid grace. 

The expression on his dear friend’s face told him the truth, for once.

Nobody had notified Garak of his coming. Not even a practiced spy could fake a reaction of such complete surprise. The Cardassian had heard him approach but had no idea it was Julian. Regardless of that, he had been expecting someone; someone who came by frequently, if Garak’s relaxed state had been anything to go by.

_ Oh. That made sense. _ Julian thought with a sinking feeling in his gut.

He chuckled awkwardly and said;

“Wrong doctor, I’m afraid.”

Julian’s stomach felt like a pot of squirming gagh. Everything in the past few months had been leading up to this moment and now when it was finally upon him, Julian felt just as tongue-tied and incompetent as he’d been when they first met. The thought might have been endearing or comforting once upon a time, but now it made him feel inadequate. It cast into relief his immaturity and emphasized the depth of his incompetence.

He was no more than an Edosian Orchid cut off from its roots; kept beautiful by stasis, but essentially dead - prevented from decay solely by being stuck under glass. In that moment, Julian felt like a painting lacking the final brushstrokes; an android without a positronic brain, a suit of clothes left unfinished on the display rack…

He spread his arms impotently and managed a feeble:

“Surprise!”

He knew his smile was sour and uncertain and embarrassing, but had no strength or artifice left to modify it. It was so mortifying, that he would come all this way and still have nothing to say. 

_ Think of Lisa.  _ Julian chastised himself. _Remember your lessons._

And then the sun set behind the horizon, plunging the world around him into crimson shadows. He had no time to take it all in, because the sun rose once more, pale gray and radiant, dispelling and banishing every shadow in his cluttered mind like a holy relic exorcizing a nest of screaming demons; purging a whole Hell’s worth.

Garak all but ran to his side and grabbed his shoulders, keeping him at elbow length, his face animated with warm surprise and the widest, most pleased smile Julian ever remembered seeing on the man. For the first time, he could see no artifice on the Cardassian’s face. 

Julian shuddered in relief, his mind and body draining of struggle, for he was forgiven.

He was absolved.

With a choked sound, he collapsed into Elim’s arms and clung to him tightly.

_ I missed you _ . He thought. But that wasn’t what crossed his lips.

“It’s _so_ good to see you, my friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took Julian long enough!
> 
> I find it rewarding to feel what he feels, there's such a sense of wonder and discovery to his journey of penance!


	14. Reunions and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak receives Julian's gifts and they finally discuss some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some interaction between our boys!
> 
> [Just Barely Out of Reach](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190182497101/another-entry-for-what-is-slowly-turning-into-an), the companion piano piece I've composed for this chapter!

Julian sagged against Garak's now thinner, but by no means any less sturdy frame. He sought comfort in the visually familiar yet physically never experienced feel of the body molded against him. His cheek was pressed against the raised neck ridges and he tried not to move, so as to not offend. The body against his was solid, cool and overwhelmingly _real_. 

Julian breathed in deeply. Garak smelled like soil; rich and sweet and heady and it made his head spin. 

All too soon for comfort, his friend disentangled them but remained close enough in his personal space that Julian could drink in every last subtle nuance of his expression. 

“I am so pleased you came!” Again, the warmth and sincerity of the words wormed their way into Julian’s thrashing heart.

Feeling abashed all of a sudden, Julian dropped his gaze and felt his head inclining minutely. There was an overdue apology forming on his lips and he was determined to make it.

“I know it was unexpected, and that I’ve put it off for a frankly unacceptable amount of time, but I felt your letter deserved a proper response, one I could only make in person.”

Once their eyes met again, Garak was looking at him in curious assessment.

“I came to apologize,” Julian pressed on. “Your… missive gave me a lot to think about.”

There was no response forthcoming, save for the gentle nudging in the tailor’s eyes, bidding him to continue.

“To be honest,” Julian admitted sheepishly. “I am still mulling everything over and I felt that… I needed to come here.” He struggled with his words and agonized over the tangled concept resting malformed in his brain, but forced it out anyways.

“There’s something hidden in the words you sent me; a lesson I feel I need to learn, and one I intuit I’d been running from for most of my life. Compartmentalizing it away used to be easy, but…”

“My words shook something loose up there.” Garak offered knowingly.

Julian took the offered straw with the pathetic gratefulness of a desperate man and nodded.

“Yes. I need to be on Cardassia to grasp whatever it is that is eluding me.”

Garak beamed at him.

“And I am glad to be of service, dear Doctor. Whatever it is you seek here, I shall endeavor to assist you with.”

“Thank you, Garak.” Julian said, exhaling with unabashed relief. 

His enigmatic friend grinned widely and a teasing little glint flickered in his joyful blue eyes.

“You may be several years too late to take in the sights, but there is still plenty left to see, if you wish. I’d like to share my Cardassia with you.”

The softness of that smile just about undid Julian in his already frail mental state. How could he voice the words rattling around in his head?

_ You already have. I have seen the Cardassia of your youth and I can no longer unsee it. It’s burned into my memory vividly, pushing aside every other glorious vista I’ve seen with a relentlessness of a beautifully invasive species.  _

Julian put his hand on Garak’s shoulder and gave it a small reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t worry, my friend. Even in its present state, Cardassia is breathtaking.” 

Garak’s eye ridges furrowed slightly and Julian recognized a look of pleasant surprise mingled with pride gleaming in that gaze. 

Julian took it in and felt his face respond with a relaxed smile brimming with fondness. He jolted awake and removed his hand as he remembered something important.

“Damn it, I forgot all about the gifts!” At Garak’s puzzled look, he laughed airily. “You didn’t honestly think I came here empty-handed, did you? That would be terribly rude!”

“Perish the thought!” Garak said dramatically, “Did you bring an extra-dimensional bag for it too, or do you travel lightly?”

The joke made Julian burst into a fit of liberating laughter.

“No, but I can show you a magic trick if you cover your ears for ten seconds?”

Garak’s face was a mask of “_Dear Doctor, you and your shenanigans”_ and it only amused him further. Julian was delighted to see Garak comply with his wishes, albeit with the most exaggerated put upon face in history. Julian turned around and hit his communicator.

“Captain Qagit? This is Julian Bashir; do you copy?”

With a crackle, his communicator came to life and spewed a reply.

“I can hear you, Mr. Bashir. Have you reached the coordinates for the drop-off?”

“Yes.”

“Stand by, beaming down.”

Julian turned around so he could see Garak, who was still holding hands over his ears, but the image of indulgent placidity was quite ruined by one of his patented wide, closed-mouth smiles.

As the shimmer of the transport coalesced into a sizeable pile of crates on the cleared ground nearby, he theatrically gestured towards the metallic mound and said:

“Happy Birthday!”

Elim burst into delighted laughter and breathed out in amused huffs. The loveliness of the familiar configuration of his friend’s facial ridges stretching and rearranging to accommodate such clear joy made Julian feel better. 

“Where is my cake?” Garak looked around suspiciously. “You’d better hope it survived the trip!”

Julian chortled.

“No cake, I’m afraid,” Julian offered his most insincere apologies. “I may have the next best thing though.”

He didn’t know what to give first, but he opted for the most logical choice currently presented. He unzipped his bag, rummaging around for his quarry and tried very hard not to grin at the avid look on Garak’s face. 

“I have several things for you, first of all… these.” With a flourish, he held out the two packs of Delavian Chocolates. 

Garak’s eyes widened in delight as he extended his arm to accept the gift of his favorite confections.

“Uh, “ Julian mumbled. “I apologize if they had… melted a little in transit. I have been traipsing across Cardassia City for about three hours now.”

Garak’s delight hadn’t dimmed one iota when he boomed:

“Then I shall drink them instead!”

Julian shook his head at Garak’s adorable antics. 

“I also brought something else, but I’ll have to find the right crate; give me a moment.”

Garak nodded, but approached the crates in interest. Julian looked at him and quipped:

“Are you going to be looking over my shoulder into every crate until I find the right one?”

Garak nonchalantly fired back:

“You haven’t remembered which one you put it in? You are too young to be going senile already, my dear Doctor.”

Julian shook his head and approached the crates. He actually knew which one held the bolts; the fabric was laid across the water packets in a crate in the middle of one of the stacks. Why not make a little show of it? He’d have to show Garak what he brought sooner or later. 

He popped open the first crate, knowing full well what he would find inside. It was a deliberate choice, because it was perfect for ribbing the Cardassian.

“Oh, not here it seems. These are Federation-issued field rations.”

Garak’s face scrunched up in distaste.

“You are lucky you opened with the chocolates.”

Julian snorted. 

“Be grateful they are the superior version; these release all the nutrients needed to sustain the body for three days. But,” Here Julian opted for some theatrics of his own. “Just to prove to you I am not completely heartless, I took the liberty for bringing two extra crates full of my own version; which tastes _significantly_ better.”

“How thoughtful of you!” Garak made a mock bow. 

“Yes, I quite thought so myself.” Julian said deliberately smugly. 

“Do you wish to see what else is there?” Julian inquired officiously, enjoying their little back and forth. 

Garak made an elegant swish, opening his palms wide.

“By all means, Doctor. Do not hold me in suspense!”

The next fifteen minutes were spent in good-natured bickering as Julian kept opening crates, expressing his dismay over where he put Garak’s gift and the Cardassian putting his sharp tongue to good use. They pored over crates of preserved foodstuffs, some even Cardassian in origin and those drew a genuine little quirk of lips from his argumentative friend. The medical supplies were acknowledged with minimum fuss.

The first serious reaction came as Julian opened a crate of portable generators.

Garak’s eyes blazed as he looked at him with an expression bordering on newfound respect.

“How many are there?” His friend asked with dignified excitement.

“Twenty. I would have gotten more, but then I would have needed a bigger freighter. I wanted to bring more, but DS9 could only spare about five. I made a deal with Quark for the rest.”

“Don’t apologize.” Garak cut him off fervently and started pacing around. Julian knew immediately that the tailor’s industrious mind was already considering where these would do the most good.

“Do you know how useful these will be? Our power grid is mostly shot. First by sabotage and then in the Fire. These could power several hospitals across the city, industrial replicators needed to create vitally needed replacement parts, or feed thousands each day if we hooked it to one of the surviving public Replimat terminals… Have no doubt, Doctor; they will be put to good use.”

Julian flashed a reassuring little smile and said:

“Then these next few crates might come useful as well.”

“Why, do you have a portable sonic shower stashed in there?”

Julian let out a guffaw.

“No! But it might be the next best thing.” He offered as he snapped the lid off.

Garak all but peered into the massive crate like an overly excited child. His reaction was certainly one of unrestrained exuberance.

“An industrial grade water purifier!” Elim’s face brimming with the sheer potential for the use of such a machine reminded Julian of the kind of uncomplicated happiness boys experienced when they got a blinking toy model of a new starship. 

“Why, Doctor, I could kiss you!”

Julian scoffed, but was unable to hide a blush at those words. All he managed to say was a grumbled:

“Oh, he says that only _after_ he sees the purifier.”

Garak looked at him fondly and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you afraid it won’t compare to the other gift you prepared for me?” Julian’s startled eyes met his.

What gave Garak that uncanny ability to cut to the core of an issue with hardly a beat? Julian could only dream of being able to do such a thing. Calculations took no time at all, but matters of intuition and social custom often left him baffled. 

“Whatever it is, I am sure I will like it.”

The reassurance felt strange coming from Garak. Strange, but not unwelcome. Julian dropped the pretense and walked over to the stack of crates he needed. He removed the top two crates with a grunt of effort and wiped his brow. He was sweaty and dusty and as such, couldn’t take any chances with the pristine cloth. Coming to a decision, he fished a sonic sanitizer from his kit and allowed the subtle vibrations to wash over his hands until they were clean. Once all the grime and sweat was gone and his skin felt tingly and refreshed, he gently removed the crate’s lid. At this point, he didn’t care how ridiculous he seemed and with a soft sigh, gently caressed the burgundy fabric. He barely heard Garak stir, when the man in question appeared beside him.

“Give me your hands, Elim.” He commanded, only to internally freeze. This wasn’t how he wanted it to go. Was it too soon? Too intimate? Too… undeserved? He couldn’t tell, but the words were out now and he couldn’t take them back.

When he dared look up at the Cardassian’s face, the man was regarding him strangely. There was no outward reaction, though. No quip, no admonishment, merely a mute acceptance and a pair of gray, weathered hands smudged with soil extended in his direction. Julian took the sanitizer and slowly ran the device over Garak’s hands until all the dust had fallen away. The tailor’s hands were coarser than he remembered, calloused and rough. For a moment, he considered using a dermal regenerator but thought better of it. He didn’t want to take all the evidence of the man’s hard work away. It would feel as if he was snatching away some hard-earned lesson, some crowning achievement. He settled for examining them for injuries visually, but there were none. 

He supposed Parmak would have tended to any injuries if it were necessary. 

Instead of dwelling on it any further, Julian reached into the crate, gently pulled out the bolt of rich burgundy cloth and chanced a look at Garak. The ex-spy’s face was inscrutable, solemn. A complicated emotion swirled in the intense blue of his gaze, but its meaning eluded Julian. Unaware of what was guiding his actions, he allowed the restrained, stunted part of himself to take the reins for once. Gently, he lowered the textile into Garak’s expecting arms and prayed his gesture would be well received. With difficulty, he spoke through a barrier in his throat.

“I saw this when I stopped over at Pullock V. I can’t really explain it; it just called out to me. When I saw it, it reminded me of you. I thought…” He swallowed thickly. “I thought you might like to make a suit for yourself out of it, if you had the time and the will, of course.” Julian was aware he was rambling, but he couldn’t stop. There was suddenly a torrent of words struggling to burst out of him and he listened to the feeling, allowing it to guide his actions. 

“You know I am terrible at fashion, but… I could imagine you in this. I think it would suit you.”

Garak listened to his inelegant speech without a word, clearly absorbing everything the way a well trained operative would. 

Julian’s gaze fluttered away, latching onto the emerald fabric he had ended up buying for himself on a whim. It seemed so… pretentious now. What had he hoped, that Garak had nothing better to do than sit around all day, making him clothes? The mere thought was absurd. Yet… as his eyes roved over the coppery filaments glinting in the deepening twilight, he was startled to realize the night was brighter than he expected. His eyes, wide in realization, found the night sky, glimmering away mysteriously above his oblivious head. Two moons shone brightly in the sky and a shiver passed him when a distant, soft pulsing of light glowed far off in the distance. He may have never seen them with his eyes before, but he recognized them all the same.

“The Taluvian Constellations…” The muttered, almost reverent comment was torn from his throat and he couldn’t look away. Their rhythmic dance of light was hypnotizing. Julian felt their unreachable mystery fill him, the way water filled the glass of a thirsty man, or the way a mother’s soft voice filled the dreams of her restless child. He spoke to the night sky, openly, brazenly. 

“I bought the other bolt for myself. I know what you’re thinking, my plain and simple friend, “What an idiot, this Doctor Bashir.” And you are right, as you so often are, Garak. It seems redundant to realize so far into the game, that I never bothered coming to you for a suit, even though we both know it would undoubtedly be the best piece in my awfully clashing wardrobe. I was seized by a deep selfishness to relive a moment from my past I had scorned and ignored so unmindfully. I should have come to you sooner and allowed you to come up with something tasteful and appropriate, let your rich imagination drape me in something eye-catching and eye-opening. And in my sizeable and pervasive ignorance, I cannot even explain why I never bothered to commission something of that sort.”

Julian’s eyes drifted to Garak’s still, blue pools. 

“What a waste, right?” Julian finished self-deprecatingly. 

Garak’s eyes shone brightly in the gloom and his voice pierced the darkness around them.

“I’d be delighted to amend that, if you will let me.”

There was obviously some crucial subtext Julian was missing, but he was entirely too grateful in that moment to refuse the man anything.

“It’s all yours.” Julian said, deeply relieved to be acknowledged and understood.

Why was it only Garak who understood? Was it their shared sense of exile? Or was it the similarity with which they both alienated their true selves? They both seemed to have that in common, that insidious compartmentalizing mechanism, except Garak had always been using it to keep his desires and feelings at bay, while Julian used it to escape from the ever-present feeling of emptiness.

He didn’t feel empty now. Cardassia seemed to have what he needed. There was something in its sky, a hidden quality to its soil, an elusive characteristic shared by its people that tugged inexorably at an unused, rusted part of Julian that begged for attention. 

“I’ll set up a perimeter alarm around these crates, at least until I arrange for a skimmer. If you have a detailed inventory, I will look it over and make appropriate arrangements. We should get these distributed as soon as possible, but it can wait a few hours. You should rest.”

Julian nodded. There was much to be done, and his unwelcome introspection could wait. He gently took the bolt of emerald fabric and deposited it on top of the one already laying in Garak’s arms. After another indecipherable look, he closed the crate and stalked after the retreating Cardassian.

Almost at the threshold of the tool shed, Garak stopped and turned around. 

Julian felt at that moment, that it would be easier to discover the secret behind the pulses of the Taluvian Constellations than it would be to decipher the look in Elim’s eyes.

The Cardassian spoke quietly, with an unmatched dignity so ingrained in his race, his posture rigid.

“I offer you my hearth and home.”

Julian’s heart rate spiked. 

Could he repeat the words Crin spoke to his beloved Eja? They seemed wildly inappropriate. And Julian didn’t wish to speak any untruths. He was tired of those.

_ What would Lisa say? Or Leeta? Or Miles? What would an honest person say? _

The answer crystallized in his mind like a complex antidote formula. The truth. They would speak from their heart. Julian had to try and use his, no matter how stunted the poor thing was. His voice barely penetrated the thick black distance between them.

“Does this mean you forgive me?”

Julian felt a sense of complete relief when Garak’s face and posture softened.

“If this is something you need, I shall. I have not forgotten, you know.”

The shrewd gaze was a clear reminder of the scene that he’d been replaying in his mind several times over the past month. He had “forgiven” Garak a long time ago, and it seemed the man never forgot it. The idea was perplexing, frankly. Julian didn’t feel that his compassion deserved to be remembered or cherished half as gratefully. He wasn’t lying when he told his dying friend so long ago that he would have done it for anyone. Honestly, it was shameful that there had been a moment in his mind when he had contemplated withholding his forgiveness because he’d been angered and disappointed by Garak’s lies. The man lay on the hospital bed, fading fast and Julian had just decided to do the right thing. It had been nothing more than the polite, compassionate Doctor routine. It disgusted him now.

Back then, he’d been merely fond of Garak. The lies irritated him just as much as they appealed to him. Now, when he looked at the man, he was blown away by the differences he saw. Gone was the forced joviality, in its place stood an unapologetic Cardassian, unbowed and unmoved. For the first time, he seemed serious and any smile his face formed was free of its habitual artifice. It was both confusing and fascinating.

Julian followed the man into the shed and looked around. Even in the dark, he could tell the space had been cleared out as much as possible, likely to store only the bare essentials and create the maximum available amount of breathing space to accommodate Garak’s crippling claustrophobia. 

“Have you made any sort of accommodations on Cardassia?” Garak asked with his back turned and placed the two bolts gently on a gray tarp covering what looked like an empty table. It was kind of hard to see in the darkness, but on the right, his enhanced eyesight discerned the contours of a workbench littered with tools and half-melted components. Obviously Garak had been hard at work, with likely limited success. In the right corner was a cabinet, housing a very rudimentary kitchen. Things were about as tidy as one could expect them to be in such conditions. Shadowed shelves covered nearly every available wall and were laden with boxes, tools and various kinds of implements Julian had no name or use for. 

“No, not really,” Julian stumbled. “I mean, I had assumed…” 

To the left, he could now see a narrow cot fitting snugly against the wall and a limited floor space in front of it, likely to facilitate both movement and ease Garak’s mind. Above the bed, a small solitary window filtered in the only illumination currently available in the shack.

Garak looked at him over his shoulder and spoke reassuringly.

“As had I. You are welcome in my home, at any time. Surely it can’t have escaped your notice?”

Julian flushed. Garak had welcomed him repeatedly and at length. He would have to be a complete fool not to notice. The Cardassian had offered him his hearth and home. Having an extra person taking up valuable space in such confined quarters couldn’t be easy for Garak, not even if it were someone he valued as a friend. 

“I thank you for your hospitality, Garak, truly.” He offered earnestly. 

The man nodded and cast a dubious glance at Julian’s sparse luggage.

“Is this the moment you tell me you’ve had the foresight to take some equivalent of a sleeping bag, or did you assume that it would be me, in my endless generosity, who would supply you with something suitable?”

Julian felt himself turn crimson. He had indeed forgotten to take that small detail into account.

“No matter, we shall improvise. Something we’ve all collectively become quite good at.” Garak exhaled dramatically, but Julian was relieved to note the man didn’t sound too upset over it.

“I’m an imposition, I’m aware of that…. I’m sorry-“

“No, no!” Garak forestalled his contrite little speech. “I opened up my home to you and I shall do my best to find you a place to sleep; it’s the least I can do after the unexpected boon you brought me. I assure you, Doctor, having you here is no hardship at all.”

Julian tried his hardest to discern the sincerity of the tailor’s words, and as far as he could see, the sentiment rang true. His shoulders relaxed and he sighed. Perhaps his heartbeat would return to its normal rhythm somewhere this century. 

“If you can spare one of those water packs in your bag, I could offer you some red leaf tea?”

Julian smiled, shaking his head. _Of course _Elim had time to visually catalogue the contents of his luggage when he opened it to deliver the chocolates, at this point he wasn’t even surprised, merely fondly exasperated by his friend’s antics. 

“If I give you two, will you make some for yourself?” Julian countered.

Garak’s smile came slowly, but brightened the tiny room. 

“Of course, my dear. It would be my pleasure to share a cup of tea with you.” With that, he pivoted around and turned a small work light on. It provided enough illumination to bathe the room in a secondary layer of shadows, but enabled Julian to clearly see every step in the preparation of the tea.

“I would offer you Tarkalean tea, but I’m afraid I’m fresh out.” Garak said wryly and it made Julian smile.

“Feel free to take a seat on the cot; you look dead on your feet, Doctor.”

Julian looked around, flustered to notice there truly seemed to be no place else to sit, at least not in here.

“I’ll take those water packs now, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, no! Not at all.” Julian bumbled and rummaged around his bag to find them. When he stepped closer to hand them to Garak, the Cardassian’s fingers brushed his. The look in those pale eyes reminded Julian of something, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what. 

Garak then turned around, filled an ancient-looking black kettle with water and put in on what Julian assumed to be a hot plate. Seeing no good reason to remain standing, Julian dusted himself off as best he could and then sat on the edge of a familiarly solid bed. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I use the time until the water boils to set up that perimeter alert, do you?”

“No, of course not. I’ll just relax here.” Julian said lamely, cringing internally at how awkward he sounded.

“As you should.” Garak gave him one of the old wide smiles and Julian wasn’t sure what to think about it. Luckily, he was spared further scrutiny as Garak picked up a box from one of the shelves and walked out at a brisk pace. A part of him wanted to help set up the protections around the cargo, but a bigger part of him was tired and needed a moment to gather his thoughts. 

There was a distance between them now, and its presence was keenly felt. It didn’t use to bother him back on DS9; there was always so much going on to distract them both, yet now he couldn’t help but notice how wide the chasm between them had grown. It reminded him of the time Ezri had first come aboard the station. Seeing her had been a punch to the gut, it had been way too soon since Jadzia’s passing. Regardless, she had also been a way to reconnect to a friend he never thought he’d see again. While Julian was grieving, he’d managed to ignore the fact Garak was falling to pieces in front of his eyes (cracking those codes was akin to treason in the man’s mind) as well as the fact he did absolutely nothing to help him. It was a moment curiously missing from the memoir he was sent and he wondered what its omission meant. Did it mean Garak had forgiven him, or that he hadn’t expected anything from that Julian back then? 

Such an appalling friend he was, selfish and self-absorbed. He’d latched onto Ezri desperately, looking for a ray of light in the oppressive darkness of their uncertain, war-filled future. Had that been a mistake? He loved her, she was exactly what he needed, so quirky and fun and full of life in her own way. Even though she was a Dax, with eight lifetimes of memories and accumulated wisdom filling her heart, she didn’t intimidate him the way Jadzia used to sometimes. She didn’t make him feel outclassed or overwhelmed. He wondered what Ezri the councilor would say about a man who seemed to be drawn to people who outsmarted and outmatched him? Perhaps it spoke of some disturbing Freudian concept - some glaring deficit in his personality. 

Garak had almost thrown himself out the airlock; Julian could still see his distraught friend pounding frantically at the metal doors, as if inviting death in to claim him. Even after that, he chose not to approach the Cardassian. Ezri had obviously been the right choice back then and he knew that intellectually.

Why did it feel morally corrupt, though?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of my favorite chapters so far! Probably because they finally meet, heh. 
> 
> Garak is amazing. So much snark in a compact Cardassian package!


	15. Tea for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Garak share a cup of tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a certain song that fueled the frenzy of these first 15 chapters. I've never written more productively and I think it deserves a listen. In my mind, it resonates with these two perfectly.
> 
> So Close by Ólafur Arnalds, feat Arnór Dan. 
> 
> EDIT:  
Made some art to go with this.  


Julian slumped and buried his face in his hands. The air was warm, yet he was relieved to note the temperature had already dropped to the imminently more acceptable 33°C. Pity he felt like too much of a mess to properly appreciate not feeling stifled. 

He simply couldn’t get it out of his mind. As he sat there, in Tolan’s humble shed which now served as Garak’s makeshift home, he wondered why he’d allowed things to get so bad. Once upon a time, they met over lunch almost every day, discussing their reading and bickering over it good-naturedly. Despite Julian being more or less married to his job, those conversations were often the highlights of his days. 

Why did he accept their dwindling frequency? What made him forget the importance of that first friendship aboard DS9? What moment marked the decline in their relationship?

And Garak… He felt their weakening bond more acutely than Julian did. After all, why else would he write about it?

_ “Still, you and Dr. Bashir have created a strong bond.”  _ Odo had said. Garak’s reply haunted Julian from the first time he read it.

_ “Not really”  _ Garak had answered quickly._ “I’m afraid that what I have to offer has run its course. It’s certainly no match for darts.” I heard the bitterness of my tone, and so did Odo.”_

Other people had certainly picked up on their bond and its apparent importance, even going so far as to remark on it. Julian could try to comfort himself with the knowledge it was just Odo, who was certainly one of the most perceptive people Julian ever had the pleasure of meeting, but if the changeling could see it, then certainly others could have as well. Curiously, after that initial period in their friendship, none of the Starfleet personnel ever gave him any grief over having contact with the station’s sole Cardassian occupant. Despite everyone being aware Garak was most certainly still loyal to his homeland, nobody interfered. 

_ What did they see that put their minds at ease? _

Garak had been bitter about their gradual estrangement; that much was obvious. It had never been the spy’s fault, though. It had been Julian gradually pulling away; so slowly he’d failed to notice it. Was it after the wire? Or the Bond holosuite program? Garak had barged in on him because he was jealous of Julian spending so much time in the holosuites, first with Miles and then alone. The tailor had just wanted to be included… And what did he get for his trouble? A bullet to the neck. The stubborn old fool didn’t even seem to mind. If anything, it seemed to make him respect Julian more. 

Afterwards, Julian detested himself. He had pulled the trigger on one of his closest friends, to save Kira, Worf, Jadzia, Miles and Sisko. It was only logical.

Why did it still make him queasy, though? Was it simply the concept of shooting a person from the back that he found questionable, or more reasonably, that he as a doctor found harming people abhorrent as a rule? Surely he would feel just as awful shooting Jadzia, or Miles if they had been in Garak’s place, right?

_ Wrong. _

Back when he’d gotten stuck with Miles on a planet with rogue Jem’Hadar who were trying to cure their addiction to ketracel-white, he had both reason and a chance to attack Miles and prevent him from destroying his efforts at the cure, but he didn’t. He couldn’t harm him.

What made Garak an easier target to shoot? Was it the fact he didn’t care as deeply about random Jem’Hadar as he did for his superior officers and long-time friends?

Or was it because he had a feeling Garak would understand, no matter how warped that thought was? 

A soft whistle of boiling water filled the shed. He wondered whether he should go fetch Garak, but the man in question must have heard the sound because he stepped into the shed barely a moment later. 

“Still awake?” Garak quipped as he put the box down. 

Julian couldn’t find any words to respond with, so he said nothing. His industrious friend didn’t seem to mind and filled the silence himself. 

“The alarm is set if anyone tries to touch the crates and I’ve managed to place a transport jammer which should prevent anyone attempting to beam it away.”

“Sounds reasonable.” Julian shrugged.

A metal spoon scraped the insides of a small tin and came away with crushed red powder Garak proceeded to stir into the boiling water before neatly pulling it out and putting the lid back on. 

Without anything better to do, Julian watched the Cardassian’s economy of movement. Every step, every flex of fingers was measured, slow and sure. Deliberate. It’s been so long.

“Here’s the inventory you asked me for.” Julian handed Garak a PADD containing the detailed list of goods he’d brought.

Garak inclined his head in thanks and took the proffered device, his eyes beginning to scan the contents at once. Occasionally, he would nod or frown, his face slowly becoming awash with possibilities Julian could see being calculated. 

“Water filters!” Garak exclaimed excitedly and raised his eyes.

“Yes,” Julian acknowledged. “These are small, and you can place them in closed containers. They release color into the water based on the severity of the contamination. There are instructions of course. Once you determine what the contaminant is, you can set it accordingly and it needs from around five minutes to an hour to purify the water. When it turns completely clear, it’s safe to drink.”

Garak gave him a shrewd yet appreciative look.

“You went quite out of your way to assemble all of this. That’s not even what I had in mind when I invited you here, Doctor. You needed only bring yourself, and perhaps lend a hand for a day or two. The Federation remains stubborn about the amount of supplies we receive and I can tell you, it’s not nearly enough. Cardassia will need a lot more if we are to rebuild our society, but you are here as a civilian. I did not expect you to bring all this, but I want you to know it is much appreciated and will most certainly be of great use. Thank you for your generous gift, Doctor.”

Julian waved his hand dismissively, feeling awkward about being praised for what was (in no small part) a bribe and an attempt at apology. 

“It was no trouble. I wanted to help.”

“I see your kindness hasn’t diminished with time. I shan’t forget it, my dear.”

The praise sat in Julian’s gut like a slab of lead. 

“Please don’t say that, Garak. I don’t deserve it.” He couldn’t meet the man’s eyes. How could he even begin to voice what was on his mind? Ezri had hinted that he needed therapy, but he’d dismissed her with a smile because he felt there was nothing she could do for him that she wasn’t already doing. Happiness found in the holosuites or in the pursuit of a new relationship always gave him a much needed high and provided an escape from his problems. Had he ever even _tried_ to face them? Oh, he was good at taking on responsibility, but never for his innermost thoughts. Those were under lock and key, stashed in an airtight container and surrounded by impenetrable force fields. No one ever had access there.

The incident with the Lethean came to mind. That brush with death had been terrifying, and he’d been so proud to have figured the alien’s plot out. He’d always assumed his assailant had taken Garak’s form because of their ambiguous friendship but was beginning to suspect there was more to it than that. There always was when the tailor was concerned. Perhaps the reason for Lethean’s choice lay in the fact that Julian suspected that, intuitively, Garak knew him best.

Maybe… 

Maybe Garak had always had access to his innermost self, even if he never used it. After all, the former spy was often found in possession of information he shouldn’t have (the incident with the Cardassian orphans on Bajor came to mind, and the way Garak had gotten access to his bedroom back then). 

Had he always been there? Since when? Julian couldn’t tell.

“Here’s your tea, Doctor. I’m afraid I have nothing to sweeten it with.”

Julian blinked distractedly and took the proffered cup gratefully.

“That’s alright. I’m sure it’s perfectly lovely as it is.”

Garak indulged him with a humming noise of agreement and pulled out a small stool from under the workbench. Once it was placed opposite Julian, the man sat down with a steaming mug of his own, cradling it contentedly in his palms. The heat obviously wasn’t scalding to a Cardassian. If anything, Garak seemed to relish the warmth.

“It’s good to see you no longer freezing to death.” Julian only half joked. 

Garak cracked a beatific smile and inclined his head. The delivery of his words was simple, a stated fact he seemed glad of. 

“It is good to be home.”

Julian looked at his cup, the murky garnet-colored liquid steaming softly in the half-light. He wondered whether it would be stupid to ask Garak to turn out the light. The illumination wasn’t overly bright, or harsh, but it cast a halo around his content friend’s form and it made Julian uncomfortable. It was ironic that he, who spent a lifetime running from his own shadows, would now feel comfortable in someone else’s.

“Shouldn’t you conserve energy? The light, I mean, it would be a shame if it burned out when you needed it most.”

Obviously getting the hint, Garak got up gracefully to turn the light off and Julian let out a long sigh. Closing his eyes, he made himself more comfortable on the hard bed and leaned against the wall. He could hear Garak sitting back down, the stool creaking nearly inaudibly. 

_ Extend my awareness… _

With his eyes closed, he focused solely on the moment he was currently experiencing. The radiating heat from the mug resting on his knees and seeping through his trousers; the specific aromatic smell of slowly cooling tea with the subtlest of shifts in air currents caused by the fragrant, rising steam; the solidity and texture of the wall against his back - it all painted a vivid picture and he found his sight was quite unnecessary. 

He could hear Garak drinking his tea, and the timing of each subtle sip coupled with the man’s slow breathing told Julian the beverage was being savored like a rare treat it likely was. Then again, the tailor had always been fastidious about eating his meals. Julian focused on those languid intakes of tea and breath and let them wash over him. Through his closed eyelids he could perceive the subtle source of light coming from the window to the left. He imagined the muted shafts of light falling across the space around him, bathing everything in a soft glow and warm shadows. 

Exquisitely slowly, he brought the tea closer to his mouth, stopping for a long moment to appreciate its rich scent. It seemed both excruciatingly familiar and undeniably unknown and he inhaled the vapor just to see whether it tasted the way it smelled. It was petrichor after a light rainfall; the melting of a marshmallow, it was dark orange and soft pink; it was the way your toes curled in the warm, moist sand and the sound of the wind at the top of a tall tree, so high up in the canopy you could see nothing but a sea of rich green clouds.

With bated breath, still and anticipatory, he brushed his dry lips against the warm rim, allowing his skin to test the surface tension of the redolent drink. 

_ 62 °C. _ _ _

He sipped cautiously, at first feeling no flavor from the masking heat. Would it taste different from the replicated version he used to enjoy? Allowing the liquid to cool in his mouth, he focused on the emerging flavors. There was a complex tartness to it, which was something he usually avoided when it came to tea, but after he swallowed it, the aftertaste was light and sweet. The spiciness came gradually, in a delicate build-up. As he continued to savor his drink, his stomach settled, his heart rate slowed and an indulgent lassitude filled his limbs. A feeling of contentedness washed over him and his face relaxed. He felt like he was floating on the surface of a warm pool, deep in some primordial jungle. For the first time in a long while, he felt at peace with himself. It was a welcome respite and he relished it. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you savor anything half as much. It would seem real red leaf tea agrees with you.” Garak noted with amusement, but Julian could hear satisfaction in the man’s voice. 

“It is good tea.” Julian said simply. “And a good lesson.”

Garak seemed content with such an answer and they continued to sip their tea slowly in companionable silence. At some point, Julian allowed his eyes to open. He had expected darkness, but once his vision had adjusted after a few moments, he realized he could see everything surprisingly clearly. Rays of ghostly light illuminated the converted living space, casting muted shadows across the laden shelves. The corners were nests of darkness contrasting the man in front of him. Every ridge and scale on that deeply content face was contoured by umbrae. Garak’s eyes were closed and he sat upright and still. Julian drank in the sight as patiently as he had taken his tea. This leaner version of Garak was strange, but he assumed this may have been the way the man looked when he was some fifteen years younger and an active operative. The statuesque form before his eyes was fascinating and Julian closed his eyes firmly. 

He wanted it to be like a first meeting. After all, this was no longer the same man he met all those years ago. He had outgrown Julian. 

_ I need to grow too. _

What would he see if he opened his eyes now?

Julian blinked and focused on the motionless Cardassian. The features exuded such enviable dignity and wisdom it made Julian wish to absorb it just by virtue of closeness. The sloping ridges of the man’s almost ornamentally scaled neck evoked in him a grace, an elegance he could almost pinpoint the origin of. It reminded him of the contours of Terok Nor’s pylons, so effortlessly refined in their geometric simplicity. Perhaps it was humans who were rigid, with their circles and their squares - not Cardassians who preferred the softer shapes of ovals and arcs. 

Where he used to see lack of color, there was now another dimension compensating for it in depth. Where once he saw threatening features of a predator, now the sophistication of form greeted him. Where there was once otherness, his eyes only saw familiarity. 

A face he both knew and didn’t. A rediscovery of a fascinating story one managed to forget with the erosion of time. 

Garak’s eyes opened and locked instantly onto his, as if he had already been looking in his direction and never stopped. Once upon a time, such a thing would have flustered him, frightened him.

Now, there was only solemn acknowledgment. They were both very different people now. Their shared history was put aside and a new path to understanding was paving itself in the moonlight stretching between them. 

“What have you come here for?” 

Garak’s question hung in the air, suspended like a droplet of water in a frozen computer program. 

Calm acceptance of his faults settled in Julian’s heavy limbs.

_ I came to see you. _ _I came to apologize. I came to beg your forgiveness._

“I came to start over.”

A kind smile tugged at Elim’s lips and Julian held in his breath. Would he get rejected and sent back to DS9, their friendship irrevocably destroyed? Was this just Garak’s perfectly executed revenge? Julian didn’t want it to be. He needed the man’s forgiveness about as desperately as Elim had once needed his. 

“Elim…” Julian breathed leaning forward. His right hand lay the cup on the bed beside him half-consciously. A need to make himself perfectly understood burned in him and his brain jumped from calculation to calculation, memories whizzing past like a roll of burning celluloid film. He latched onto a single image and let it take possession of him. Ziyal smiling and extending her palm in greeting towards Garak.

His body fell away. He could no longer feel it. The sensation was utterly alien, almost like an out of body experience. All that remained was a tingling sensation in his palm and the wide, terrified gaze locked on the Cardassian who held his fate in his hands. With a soft, indecipherable exhale, Garak shifted forward to meet Julian’s palm with his own. 

Everything burned. Julian’s throat, his eyes, the stretch of cold clammy skin of his palm melting into the coarser, gray texture of Garak’s less delicate hand. Relief waged war on his insides, running hot and cold in intermittent bursts. He felt like an explorer on the cusp of some amazing discovery, if only the test results would come in at last. 

The sound of softly crunching footsteps snapped him violently out of his thoughts.

“Elim, are you still awake?”

Julian was startled to see a wide, eager grin light up Garak’s face. Their palms disconnected and Garak got up swiftly as if imbued by a new energy and walked towards the exit, stopping in the doorway. Julian’s vantage point offered him a decent view of Garak, but not much else. 

“I am right here, Kelas.”

The warmth in that greeting was grating.

“We had an emergency operation and it dragged on, I’m afraid… Is that red leaf tea I smell? Also, where did that pile of crates come from? Have you cashed in on some old favor?”

Garak’s easy laughter filled the darkened shed and Julian wanted to melt into the wall.

“The crates were as much a surprise to you as they were to me, and I thought the occasion deserved some small indulgence.”

“Have you saved some for me?” The words were softly measured and spoke of respect and fondness.

“Of course, Kelas. Do come in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter full of feels. I enjoyed writing this one immensely. They are just so ridiculously good together!
> 
> Don't hate me for the cliffhanger, you'll see what happens tomorrow. :)


	16. Strange New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian meets Kelas. Julian and Garak discuss the issue of names (and Tain).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, hope you enjoy!

Julian didn't know how to feel. He and Garak just had a moment where some sort of agreement seemed forthcoming, and then an unexpected interloper appeared. 

Of course, he was being completely ridiculous. This person was obviously Garak’s friend and he’d be a horrible person if he behaved anything less than amiable.

He didn’t exactly have time to make himself any more presentable, since Kelas chose that moment to step through. Without missing a beat, the man followed the former spy, not even sparing a glance at the left side of the shed where Julian currently sat on the cot. Surely he would be introduced soon. Until that occurred, he was content to take hold of his mug and pretend he was busy. And invisible.

_ Think of the regnar, Julian. Withdraw your presence. You are not here. _

It was a tricky thing to implement, since what Garak described felt borderline fantastical. Still, he forced himself to adapt to his environment. He wouldn’t move, wouldn’t disturb the gentle shafts of light illuminating the shed and would time his breathing to one of the other Cardassians in the room. How hard could it be?

“So, what’s in those mysterious crates out there?” Kelas asked once more, fishing for information from Garak who was currently obviously stalling for time by refilling his cup. He handed it over to the other doctor along with the PADD containing the shipment manifest. Julian stared at the newcomer’s back, trying to glean as much information as he could. The man was taller than Garak, with a curiously narrow neck. If he were human, Julian would have called him wiry or sinewy, but since he was Cardassian, he possessed a slightly more defined bulk. His hair was longer than Garak’s and lay against his concealed shoulder blades, bound by a simple metal clip. Julian couldn’t remember ever seeing a Cardassian man with hair accessories. Though, he had mostly only seen soldiers, so that didn’t have to mean anything. 

“Elim! This is incredible! Do you know what we could do with all these portable generators?”

“I know, my dear friend. We shall find good use for them.”

“Now we can finally do something about that contaminated water reservoir under the Torr Sector… Where did you get all of this?”

Julian noticed Garak was watching him, but his expression didn’t waver for an instant. He seemed to be enjoying this little subterfuge and allowed Julian his observations, while Kelas drank from Garak’s cup and hummed in satisfaction. 

“An old friend of mine dropped in.” He said with a fond smile. “I think he’s anxious to meet you.”

Julian sputtered in his corner, inwardly cursing Garak for putting him on the spot. The stupid spy was grinning at him unapologetically, clearly enjoying his embarrassment. But worst of all was the doctor swerving around so ungracefully Julian swore the man gave himself whiplash. The shock on that unfamiliar gray face was a bit funny, though.

“Kelas, meet Doctor Julian Bashir.”

Julian suddenly found the situation hilarious and his reaction reflected that. He took a cold sip of his tea and waved to the man. 

“Hello.”

“And Bashir, meet Doctor Kelas Parmak.”

The Cardassian doctor’s eyes were huge and dark, the PADD pressed to his chest and Julian couldn’t help but think of that old idiom: Like a deer caught in headlights.

To his eternal amusement, Garak pried the mug from Parmak’s unresponsive fingers in an attempt to salvage the precious liquid. 

“By grace, Elim! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Garak chuckled and patted his friend’s arm affectionately. 

“Of course not. I dare say you frightened him about as much as he frightened you.”

“He doesn’t look frightened to me…” Parmak grumbled and tried to calm his breathing.

Garak looked Julian in the eye knowingly as he said:

“He knows better than to show it.”

Julian accepted the good natured jab and replied by raising his cup in toast.

“I’ve had an exceptional teacher.” 

Kelas looked at Garak shrewdly and said:

“I knew you were friends, Elim, but I had no idea you managed to corrupt him so completely.” With that, he turned to Julian. “You have my deepest sympathies, Doctor Bashir. Elim sometimes doesn’t know the meaning of restraint.”

Julian chuckled. Garak had been right to describe Parmak as sweet. Still, all this first-name basis business made him feel strange. Why did the _other_ doctor get the privilege when the tailor only ever called Julian some variation of his professional title? He was half-tempted to tell Kelas to call him Julian, if only to mess with Garak, but that didn’t feel right either. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. _Elim_has been an epitome of restraint as long as I’ve known him and I am quite certain any action he took was carefully measured and quite deliberate.” Julian kept his tone and smile purposefully light, but Garak would know perfectly what he meant. 

“Such praise!” Garak exclaimed theatrically. “Please desist, Doctor! You’ll give me a big head, and Kelas here would be dreadfully upset over that.”

Parmak gave Garak a pointed look of exasperation and Julian realized, while he may have been having a double conversation, Kelas and Elim were sharing a wordless moment right now. He couldn’t consciously explain what irked him about it, but something simply didn’t sit well with him. Julian supposed that’s what being sidelined by a friend looked like. 

_ I had done this to Garak, hadn’t I? When I became friends with Miles, I just… disappeared on him. _

He wanted to hit himself. One look at Kelas and he could tell, with absolute certainty that he was a fiercely loyal man. It was also clear that his loyalty was to Garak. 

No, not Garak.

Elim .

Parmak seemed to have earned the right to call Garak by his first name, and was obviously completely comfortable using it. The reverse was true as well. 

Julian flashed back to the Dominion prison camp and its aftermath. He’d been replaced and nobody noticed… Not Miles, not Jadzia, not even Garak. Looking at the pair of Cardassians so at ease in each other’s company, Julian felt replaced again. 

Why did it have to be a Doctor? That was just rubbing the salt onto a wound. It felt inconsiderate and cruel and… Here he was, doing it again, being selfish. Garak had needed a friend and Parmak had been there when Julian hadn’t. It was as simple as that. If anyone was an interloper, it was Julian. 

“I must thank you for your generosity, Dr. Bashir.” Parmak bowed to him formally. Julian could tell the man was completely sincere and wondered if that had been what drew Garak’s attention. “Cardassia is in dire need, but our behavior hasn’t endeared us to the rest of the galaxy. The Federation’s efforts may be insufficient, but they are the only ones extending a helping hand, and we are grateful. It is a kindness we shan’t soon forget, I promise you.”

Julian was taken aback by the vehemence of the gentle man’s words. Still, Parmak seemed to be operating from a misapprehension and Julian felt it his duty to set the man straight.

“I know the Federation is currently too tied up to be of much help and that’s one of the reasons I came. Starfleet cannot spare anything at the moment, so I took matters into my own hands. I pulled some favors from my friends back on the station; used all of my accumulated replicator credits and even sold my holo image to Quark!” He burst into embarrassed laughter.

“Doctor!” Garak was appalled. “You do know how he plans to use it, right?”

“What do I care whether he uses it to turn me into a Risian masseur or to give himself oo-mox? It got me those portable generators and that industrial grade water purifier. Next to helping you, my embarrassment means less than nothing.”

Kelas was looking at him in surprise, but Julian only cared about Garak’s reaction. He had spoken the truth… He didn’t do all this for Cardassia, he did it for himself, to ease his guilty conscience. But most of all, he did it for _Garak_. How could he stand by and forget his friend’s suffering in the ruins of his home planet, living in extreme deprivation? While he knew Cardassia needed any supplies desperately, he couldn’t abide the image of the once strong and solid tailor reduced to this emaciated frame. The man was clearly dehydrated and malnourished. Julian just couldn’t bear it. 

“That… is a very Cardassian sentiment, my dear.”

“I mean it, Garak.”

Kelas saw fit to break the tension.

“I hope Elim has offered you a tour?”

Julian smiled and Garak interjected:

“Naturally! It might take a trifle long, since I will be forced to describe an awful lot of things that are no longer there…”

“How long are you staying on Cardassia, Dr. Bashir?”

Julian looked at Garak, realizing belatedly that he never told him the time frame. It just never came up.

“I hope it’s a week at least, my dear Doctor.” Garak was looking at him challengingly and Julian wondered whether two months was a rude stretch of the man’s hospitality.

“Uh, not quite.”

“If you tell me you are leaving in two days, I might do something unfortunate.” 

Julian was baffled by Garak’s sudden flash of anger.

“Surely you can extend your stay for a bit, Doctor?” Parmak offered reasonably, then turned to Garak and placed a calming hand on the man’s suddenly rigid shoulders. “Elim, you’re being rude to our guest.”

Where did that “our” come from? Did Parmak count himself as a host because Julian was Garak’s friend and it was no more than a courtesy, or…

“You misunderstood!” Julian defended. “I planned on staying for two months, I used up most of my leave, but now when I see what a drain on your resources I am likely to be-“

“Absolutely not!” Garak exclaimed resolutely, his voice brooked no argument. “I offered you my home, and you will stay here for those two months!”

“Garak… Just because I brought you supplies, it doesn’t mean you’re somehow indebted to me. They were a gift, just like the chocolates and the fabrics.”

At the mention of fabrics, Kelas’ back straightened and looked at Garak questioningly. The tailor sighed and pointed to the table where the bolts lay covered by a tarp. 

Wait. When had that happened? Julian couldn’t remember Garak covering them when they first came in. 

Kelas stared in the indicated direction and flipped the tarp over. A small gasp gushed past the man’s lips. He was quiet for a moment, but then his hand reached out and touched the crimson fabric, almost like he knew which one was intended for Garak. 

“It’s very beautiful,” Parmak spoke softly, sincerely; his voice expressing a hint of some suppressed emotion. He tore his hand away and turned to face Garak. “It would look marvelous on you, Elim.”

“Thank you.” Garak said simply. 

Julian watched helplessly as Parmak walked into Garak’s personal space and observed the slow dance of their palms coming together in an excruciatingly languid way. There was so much left unspoken between the pair and Julian was struck by the idea that these two were on their way to becoming more than friends. Garak withdrew his hand first. 

“It is getting late and I should leave you to your guest. Do you want me to talk to Alon about the distribution of the supplies?”

“No need, I will contact him tonight. I’ll keep in touch.”

“Good.” Kelas said, with a marginal, yet noticeable amount of stiffness gripping his spine. 

With that, he turned to Julian and said:

“Should you wish to volunteer your expertise during your stay here, I would be delighted to find you a temporary posting somewhere. Good doctors are a rare commodity on Cardassia at the moment, and all of them are horribly overworked. A helping hand would be most appreciated.”

Julian nodded in assent.

“I would like that.”

Kelas bowed respectfully once more.

“I see Elim’s assessment of your virtue hasn’t been exaggerated. He is lucky to have you.”

“No,” Julian waved his hand dismissively. “I’m the lucky one.”

The smile on Garak’s face was subtle, but Julian could see a curious heat emanating from it. 

With one last incline of his head, Parmak thanked Garak for the tea and retreated from the shed into the darkening night. Julian wanted to ask what all that had been about but didn’t feel like poking that particular hornet’s nest at the moment. The situation reminded him of those invisible, sub-space mines from AR-558 and the last thing he needed right now was to walk into a Houdini. He wanted some peace and quiet. 

He observed Garak, who was absently caressing the rim of his mug. Did he interrupt something between the two, like a date or something? The thought was mortifying. 

Regardless, he was relieved to see the man go. Parmak would have all the time he wanted with Garak after Julian left. These two months were necessary to try and mend his strained friendship with the Cardassian, and he was loath to leave without mending fences. 

“You must be tired from your journey, Doctor. Why don’t you try to get some sleep while I borrow your communicator to make some arrangements?”

“Where would I sleep?”

“Where you are sitting right now, I imagine. I won’t be using it tonight, there’s too much work to do.”

“I can’t steal your bed. You need your rest too! Besides, when was the last time you ate?” Julian was aware his tone was rapidly becoming accusatory, but he worried for the stubborn man in front of him. 

“I had some light lunch earlier, there’s no need to worry about me.”

_ Light lunch, my foot!  _ Julian thought. If Garak has had a single filling meal in the past several months, Julian would eat his boot. 

“I promise to go to sleep as soon as I see you eat one of those nutrient-delayed rations.” He crossed his arms and looked at Garak mutinously. 

Garak rolled his eyes in an overly exaggerated manner and all but whined.

“Must you subject me to that poor excuse for a meal? I would much rather have one of those delectable chocolates you brought me.”

“A piece of chocolate is not a filling meal, Elim, and you know it!” Julian didn’t know why he allowed his temper to flare or why he was allowing himself the liberty of addressing Garak by his given name. He had even jumped to his feet and placed his now empty mug on the workbench with slightly more force than was strictly necessary. 

Despite his little outburst, Garak was regarding him affectionately.

“I will share the morning meal with you, will that suffice?”

“You’re _starving_, Elim! Why are you doing this to yourself?” Julian asked imploringly, nearly shaking Garak’s shoulders to knock some sense in him.

“Ah, but we almost match now, Doctor! I don’t remember being this trim since my thirties!”

The joke was a poor deflection and Julian cut right through it, tightening his fingers around Garak’s upper arms. 

“How can you even joke about that?” Julian watched the humor drain from his friend’s features. Garak let out a weary sigh. 

“What else can I do? Tears are a luxury on Cardassia.”

Julian deflated. 

“Besides, dear Doctor, this is not the first famine we’ve faced, and it likely won’t be the last. A Cardassian can get by on surprisingly little.”

“And why do I get the feeling you give away what little you do manage to get?”

“What would you have me do? Send the orphans away? I have enough atrocities on my conscience; I don’t need to add watching starving children to the list.”

“You can’t help Cardassia by driving yourself into an early grave; damn it, Garak!” Julian shouted and let go of the man, pacing around the confined space restlessly.

“Your worry is touching, dear Doctor, but unnecessary. I have survived this long, and thanks to your generosity, we can now stave off the worst by pairing those power generators with surviving replicators at strategic places in the City, and distributing the rations as needed. Once we replicate the spare parts, we can restore some of our power grid and put that water purifier to good use. After we get access to clean water, we can think about growing some crops. It won’t be easy, but we need to learn to be self-sufficient. There won’t be any more spoils from glorious conquests to fill our warehouses, not for a long time.”

Julian was struck by the sincerity of that sentiment. Garak hasn’t only been changed by this ordeal, he was actively trying to change and improve the world around him. Like a good gardener, he would nurture this Cardassia, and like a good tailor – he would mend it. Julian could almost see the chaotic tapestry of disparate shreds of fabric being stitched together by Garak’s competent hands.

Unable to help himself, Julian reached for Garak’s hands and took them gently. These were the hands healing Cardassia, one stitch at a time. It was such a monumental, daunting task, but the Cardassian undertook it with calm acceptance and awe-inspiring dignity. There was a whole planet to heal, a whole race to feed, a whole social system to overhaul. How could any one man take on so much?

He looked into Elim’s eyes, soft and glimmering in the gloom. How could he have left the man struggling under all this weight for so long?

“Let me help you.”

“I will eat, Doctor, stop harassing me.”

“No,” Julian shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. Let me help you restore Cardassia.”

“I knew you were a brilliant and ambitious man, Doctor,” Garak chuckled. “But I had no idea you had such an expedient plan. Will two months suffice?” He said sarcastically.

They wouldn’t. Julian was well aware of that. He could urge Starfleet to send more help, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough. Strangely, he felt his place was here. This entire world was a dying patient.

“I can always take unpaid leave. Or ask to be assigned here in some capacity. I don’t care, Garak, can’t you see?”

Garak said nothing.

“I will stay as long as I need to. Please,” He entreated passionately. “Let me help you build a new Cardassia. Let me see your world the way you wanted me to, the world you showed me in your letters, except better and freer for everyone – especially for all the little boys called Elim who can finally get to _choose_ their own path.”

Garak regarded him with muted astonishment and his shoulders sagged in defeat. Their foreheads met and Elim stilled, apparently resigned. 

“There’s no stopping you when you get this stubborn, is there?” Garak murmured with his eyes closed. 

“You know me, I don’t give up easily.” Julian huffed.

“That’s one of the reasons I admire you, Doctor.” The Cardassian admitted wearily.

Julian jolted away and looked Garak in the eye.

“Can’t we dispense with such formalities after all we’ve been through together?” Julian asked, tired and fed up with the constant reminder of their decayed closeness.

“Addressing someone by their title is a sign of respect.”

It was a valiant attempt, but Julian didn’t care anymore.

“It feels so impersonal. Besides, I didn’t hear you address Parmak with his title.”

Garak extricated his hands and turned around, slumping against the table with his palms splayed out against the crinkling tarp.

“That’s different.” 

Julian’s acute hearing barely caught that. 

“Why is it different? Because he was here when I wasn’t?”

No answer was forthcoming. Julian watched the moonlight bathe the scales of Garak’s exposed neck. They weren’t as thick as Dukat’s; as a matter of fact, they made Elim’s back look quite unprotected and vulnerable. 

Garak turned on his heel and stood straight, his hands clasped behind his back. It was the posture of a soldier. 

“It’s different because he uses my name freely. I allowed it because we are good friends, and that is the natural progression of friendship.”

“You never allowed me such liberties.” Julian stated grimly.

“You never tried. You knew my name and you didn’t use it! What was I supposed to do, Doctor? Force you?”

“You never gave me leave to use it!”

“Information is meant to be used, my dear Doctor, not wasted. I revealed my name to you through Tain.”

“What?” Julian spat. 

“Have you forgotten the man’s deathbed confession?”

Julian couldn’t believe his ears. Curse Garak and his circumspect, backward Cardassian logic!

“I knew your name for _years_ before that, Garak!”

The Cardassian ground to a halt. Gears were turning in that complicated head of his, Julian could tell. When he finally came to some sort of conclusion, Garak uttered only one word.

“How?”

Understanding immediately, Julian shrugged.

“Tain.”

Grim comprehension stole across Garak’s face. 

“Of course. The wire.”

“I wanted to know the truth, so I asked him about Elim.”

“And he told you it was me.” Garak said bitterly. 

“Not before telling me I was being a bad friend to you by trying to keep you alive. What were his exact words, again? Ah - **You should let him die. After all, for Garak, a life in exile is no life at all.**”

“He wasn’t wrong.”

Julian’s blood boiled.

“This is what he said after I thanked him for the information that would save your life,” Julian attempted to modulate his voice and speech patterns to match what he remembered Tain saying. “**Don't thank me. I'm not doing Garak any favors. He doesn't deserve a quick death. On the contrary, I want him to live a long, miserable life. I want him to grow old on that station, surrounded by people who hate him, knowing that he'll never come home again.**”

“At least he was wrong about the last part.”

It was at this point that Julian exploded.

“He was wrong about everything!” Like a man possessed, Julian paced the length of the shed, feeling like a caged animal. His arms twitched in emphasis as the flood burst through the gates.

“He was wrong to set you on such a cruel path and he was wrong to rub it in my face that you were _special_ because he never needed to order you to do anything. He implied a willingness on your part, a cruelty that you don’t possess, unlike him. The only reason you went along with his sick plans is because you were looking for his approval, as every son does! And he used it against you, the bastard! Just like he used your claustrophobia or your love for your mother. He used Tolan’s love for you to get information to have people assassinated, for God’s sake! He was a monster and he tried everything in his power to turn you into one, but he failed! He failed, Garak, and you know why?”

He ended up right in front of Elim’s calm face.

“I have a feeling you will tell me.”

Julian let his voice drop into an impassioned whisper.

“He may have managed to corrupt your morals, your thoughts and your ideals, but he couldn’t convert your _heart_. It is incorruptible, Elim! Look at you! Look at Cardassia! Everything bad about the current state of affairs is Tain’s fault.”

Gently, Julian placed a hand on Garak’s cheek and absentmindedly caressed the small ridge underneath his left eye.

“But everything that’s _right_… That is _your_ doing. Elim…” Julian felt his eyes moisten. “You were never meant to follow in your father’s footsteps. You were meant to _erase_ them.”

The silence stretched between them, carried by the specks of dust illuminated by the filtered light. Garak’s stillness didn’t bother Julian. Greedily, he drank in the sight of this new man. His mouth operated independently from his brain for the millionth time, but he didn’t mind. 

_ I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner. _

“I’m sorry for not seeing you sooner.” Julian murmured apologetically.

“You’re here now.” The man meant it.

Julian nodded and withdrew his hand.

“I’m glad I came.”

“As am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's so much going on in this chapter... 
> 
> I'd just like to point out that Julian, in his passionate little diatribe against Tain, forgot to mention Enabran's actual parting words - "And please, tell Garak I miss him." Sorry, Julian, but you missed the point. Again! XD
> 
> Your thoughts are always deeply appreciated! :)


	17. Of Diplomatic Incidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak discusses the distribution of Julian's supplies with Ghemor. Julian and Garak banter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some banter/ fluff! 
> 
> I drew something nice for this fic yesterday, so I'll link it here if anyone wants a look!
> 
> https://syaunei.tumblr.com/image/189170945091

After visiting the extension of the shed Garak had mentioned in his letter (it was a bloody _outhouse_) and relieving himself, Julian took the opportunity to change out of his dusty uniform. It was a much-needed relief, wearing a sleeveless shirt in this heat. He paired it with some thin cotton trousers and walked back into the shed feeling much lighter. 

He found Garak deep in conversation with someone, obviously putting his Starfleet-issued combadge to good use. 

Considerate enough not to interrupt what seemed like a delicate negotiation; Julian walked over to the cot and lay down. From this vantage point, he had a clear view of the door, which he supposed was the whole point, but could no longer see Garak who was sitting on his stool in front of the workbench.

“Alon, I _know_ the rest of the planet needs help, but we need to fix our infrastructure first! Cardassia City is the capital of the entire Union, and if we can’t create a central hub for refugees and medical emergencies, there will be chaos.”

A voice crackled over the comm:

“You mean, more than there already is?”

“Yes. Stop being so stubborn, Ghemor! You know we can’t be everywhere at once. As soon as we get power production and water treatment underway, we’ll be able to send help anyplace you want.”

“For everyone’s sake, I hope you are right.” A sigh traveled distorted as if over some great distance. “I’ll send you some suggestions for the locations of water filters, and arrange for a skimmer first thing in the morning. Make a route and prioritize the power generators along with the water purifier.”

“I know, it will be ready by the time the skimmer gets here.”

“I’ll try to get a hold of some competent engineers for you.”

“That would be much appreciated, thank you Alon.”

“Anytime, my friend. Remind me to thank this Doctor of yours in person before he leaves Cardassia.”

“You’ll have plenty of chances; he is staying for two months.”

“Good. Any chance he’d be willing to lend a hand in one of the hospitals or research centers?”

“Hah!” Garak exclaimed. “You won’t be able to keep him away.”

“Excellent. See you tomorrow, Elim.”

“At first light.”

A muted chuckle crackled in the air before the connection was dropped. 

Julian lay silent, breathing deeply. It was now well past midnight and the temperature had dropped to 29°C. It was still hot, but he hoped as the night progressed, it would knock off at least a few more degrees. He could hear Garak sigh and rise from his seat to stretch his limbs. 

“I believe you will appreciate the irony, Doctor, so I will tell you. While you lounge about so indecently exposed, I should be freezing, but I am not.”

“This is considered cold on Cardassia?” Julian blurted out.

Garak laughed and sailed into view.

“Of course, my dear. Anything below 35°C is considered chilly to us.”

Julian shuddered. 

“I am guessing you got used to the station’s 22°C over time?”

“Used to?” Garak snorted in outrage. “Goodness no, who could get used to such glacial temperatures? Regardless, 30°C no longer bothers me. I’d prefer more, but alas!”

“It’s 29°C, actually. Go you, adapting so well to hostile conditions!” Julian teased. 

“I can tell you, my dear, the conditions were quite hostile! Why, if I had a slip of latinum for every time a Bajoran looked at me like I was Dukat himself, I would be the wealthiest man in the Union!”

Julian could imagine it all too well and gave a little chuckle.

“If I had known this temperature made humans shed all their clothes, I would have dragged you into that Cardassian spa program a long time ago.”

Julian sprawled over the narrow cot and looked at his friend, cracking a massive grin.

“I should have known you’d be scandalized by my choice of wardrobe.”

“What can I say, my dear? Magenta is not your color.” 

Julian moaned in disbelief. 

“First he complains about too many clothes, then he complains about the color… What’s next?”

“I could point out that cut does absolutely nothing for you, but I shall restrain myself.”

“Oh, come on Garak! What’s so wrong with it?”

“Where do I start?” The tailor exclaimed theatrically. “It’s baggy and hides that lean waist you should be accentuating, not to mention that it’s at least two sizes too big, and don’t get me started-“

“All right! I get the point!” Julian huffed in surrender. “Dare I ask for the positives, or are there none?”

Garak’s smile was all teeth.

“Well… There is _one_.” The way Garak used the widening on his eyes for maximum effect and intrigue made Julian want to play along. 

“No!” Julian said dramatically. “Say it isn’t so!”

“Oh yes, my dear Doctor. Call me an eternal optimist,” Here Julian rolled his eyes. Garak was the worst cynic he’d ever met! “But I dare say the way this _shirt_, and I use the term loosely, displays your collarbones is positively obscene.”

Julian knew that Garak was just messing with him, but it still made him feel slightly self-conscious.

“Don’t get me wrong, dear, I don’t mind you wearing this to bed; but I certainly hope you don’t wear it in Kelas’ view, the poor man would have a heart attack.”

Unable to control it, Julian felt his cheeks flush. 

“I didn’t know collarbones were considered… scandalous.”

“Think back on it, Doctor…” Garak admonished. “Have you ever seen me, or any other Cardassian with such a plunging neckline?”

“Natima Lang wore one.”

Garak sighed in exasperation.

“She is a woman. The same standards don’t apply.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that if I go out like this, on Cardassia, I’ll cause a diplomatic incident?”

Garak looked at him with curiously raised eye ridges.

“Oh I daresay there will be some kind of incident, just not necessarily a diplomatic one.”

Julian stammered in indignation.

“Are you… insinuating what I believe you are insinuating?”

“I’ll put it this way, if you get invited to a side alley, just run.”

Julian choked on his mortification and Garak, the great bastard, seemed to be enjoying his discomfort way too much. 

“But, you already saw me like this back on DS9! You never said anything!”

“There was no need to say anything. Your human fashions were accepted there.”

“You still could have told me!” Julian protested.

“And deprive myself of such a lovely view? I think not.”

Julian knew this was just harmless banter, but the innuendos were getting a bit thick. He enjoyed them, from time to time, but now it made him nervous. His heart was racing again, and he willed himself to calm down. There was no need to spoil such a light-hearted moment with his incomprehensible overreactions. It’s been so long since he’d seen the Cardassian so carefree; it would be positively criminal to ruin his fun. 

“Well, you will just have to get used to it. During the day, I’ll be sweltering away, so at least at night I want to be comfortable!”

“By all means, Doctor!” Garak said sickeningly graciously. “I wasn’t complaining.”

“I suppose you consider this a compliment?” Julian looked at him, exasperated.

Garak only smiled mischievously. 

“You have grown more perceptive! Good for you. Now, I really am afraid I must bid you good night, there’s a lot of work to do.”

Julian nodded and lay back down, making himself comfortable. Luckily, he’d gotten used to the hard beds back on DS9, or this would have been unbearable. The pillow was a bit worse for wear, but when he burrowed his face in it, he discovered it bore a pleasant scent. With a yawn, he wondered what Garak washed it with.

Not five minutes later, he was fast asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think is happening here? 
> 
> These two are at their best when they are together!


	18. Cardassian Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Garak watch the sunrise over breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one! I so wish an artist more capable than I could draw this scene to do it justice.

Julian was awoken by the feel of a calloused hand upon his shoulder.

“Wake up, my dear. It’s time for breakfast.”

Julian mumbled something incoherent and tried to rub sleep out of his eyes. 

“Wha\- It’s still dark outside!”

“Do you really want to miss your first Cardassian dawn?”

Julian halted and realized he had no response to that. 

“Fine, lead the way.” He said sleepily and scrambled inelegantly out of the bed. Despite the perfectly comfortable temperature, Julian wished Garak would have left him to sleep for at least a while longer.

“Aren’t you cold like this, Doctor?” Garak asked and Julian groaned. 

“No, I’m not cold, Garak. It’s 25°C, for God’s sake.”

“I am gratified to see that your powers of observation function unobstructed despite the early hour.”

“Where are we going, anyways?” Julian yawned and stretched as far as his limbs allowed him.

“Out back, to the clearing.”

Still bleary eyed, Julian followed unenthusiastically. 

When they rounded the shed, Julian noticed the outlines of a vaguely familiar table in the distance, standing out against the twilight. It was flanked by two crates which were probably meant to serve as chairs and it was only as he got closer that he realized there was a hand against the small of his back, guiding him to the crate on the right. He allowed Garak to play the role of genial host and obligingly sat on the proffered container. Stifling another yawn, he looked at the table set in front of him. 

There was a freshly brewed pot of that lovely tea from yesterday, steaming away in the gradually dwindling darkness. As Garak poured them both a cup, Julian hummed in satisfaction.

“You will spoil me.”

Garak gave him an amused smile.

“Don’t get used to it. I am all out of red leaf.”

Julian took the fragrantly steaming mug and shot his breakfast companion a grateful look. The message was clearly received; this was an indulgence they could no longer afford. It was sort of sweet that Garak went out of his way to make the experience of dining out amidst the ruins pleasant. 

In the middle of the table, serving as centerpiece was a single pastel-colored bloom, floating on a small saucer and Julian’s eyes widened. It was one of Garak’s prized Edosian Orchids.

“What-“ Julian started. “You needn’t have cut your beautiful orchids for me, Elim!”

Garak offered a smug little smile over the rim of his cup.

“It could hardly be considered a romantic outing without a flower arrangement, isn’t that right?”

Julian gave him a withering look. It was too early for banter.

“You’re insufferable in the mornings, anyone tell you that?”

Garak beamed, then leaned in conspiratorially.

“Once or twice.”

Just when Julian was starting to wonder whether the breakfast was a hoax, he noticed two familiar foil packets sitting before each of them and snorted.

“I should have known this was too good to be true.” Julian grumbled, to Garak’s obvious amusement.

“You seemed quite adamant to force one of these down my throat yesterday, my dear Doctor. Does my cooking displease you?”

Julian wanted to be mad at Garak’s silly behavior, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain if it meant the Cardassian would finally get a nutritionally balanced meal.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” He said. “I am sure it will be delicious.”

Garak regarded him with mock irritation and took another sip of his tea.

“I suggest you eat that before the main event, it would be such a shame if the taste detracted from the experience.”

Julian quirked his lips and followed the suggestion. They chewed in silence for a few minutes and Julian tried hard not to let his revulsion at the blandness of the rations show. If Garak’s smile was anything to go by, he clearly failed miserably. Luckily, the tea helped. He was quite tempted to close his eyes and simply enjoy the moment when Garak’s voice pierced his reverie. 

“It’s starting.”

Blinking rapidly a few times, Julian turned his gaze towards the horizon. 

At first, there was nothing but pale gray light, invading the dark canvass of the sky like watercolors. Julian watched with bated breath as the color gradually transmuted into the softest cherry blossom pink. As Cardassia’s star peeked its way across the edge of the ruined world, Julian forgot to breathe altogether. The colors bloomed across the sky like a benediction, casting their warmth across the ruined landscape. Involuntarily, Julian’s hand reached out towards the horizon, almost as if he could touch the painting and feel the texture of the colors on his skin. All too soon, the sun rose above the land and took all the magic of the exquisite hues away. 

Once his shock and loss abated somewhat, he turned back towards the table and startled when a weathered gray hand covered his.

His gaze flew upwards.

“Thank you, Julian.”

His heart swelled in his chest as the day quickened around them. To his amazement, he knew exactly what his friend meant, without needing it explained. The feeling of comprehension was so heady it almost made his head spin and he could feel his face transform with joy. After all these years, he finally understood. This is what it felt like to see eye to eye, to understand a concept that previously eluded you. 

This is what it felt like to see the world without blinds. 

“I see it now, Elim. I guess there’s hope for me yet, hm?”

Garak nodded subtly and Julian could see the man’s eyes glistening. It was such a vulnerable look, but Julian had a feeling there was no one stronger in the world in that moment. He covered Elim’s hand and caressed it soothingly.

“I want to see everything. Will you show it to me?”

Garak took a steadying breath and nodded. 

“May I suggest you get dressed for the day? If those engineers arrive soon, I will never hear the end of it.”

“Oh? Will they accuse you of being a filthy xenophile or a Federation collaborator?” Julian teased.

“My, my… What a vivid imagination you have, dear Doctor.” Garak said dismissively. “They will obviously accuse me of both.”

“And we can’t have that, can we?”

“Naturally. Now go.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help with the table?” Julian asked.

“In the interest of saving time, I’d rather not.”

“Suit yourself.” Julian shrugged. “Just don’t go complaining to me if you pull a back muscle.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Garak inclined his head in mock respect. “I would go complaining to Kelas.”

With a last eye roll, Julian traipsed back into the shed to get dressed for the day. 

It would probably be a busy one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone out there connecting dots? 
> 
> Just curious! :)


	19. Logic of Logistics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak and Julian fight over clothes and get ready to deliver Julian's supplies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More banter! Always a plus!

Julian was experiencing an inner debate. Ironically, it was about clothes. 

He wasn’t sure whether he should wear his uniform to appear more professional, or whether he should go for civilian clothing to look less conspicuous. That was the state Garak found him in when he returned to the shed, carrying the table. 

Julian turned around to ask for the tailor’s advice when he noticed the startled look in his friend’s eyes. He was about to ask what was wrong, or if he had some deadly venomous creature crawling in his hair, when he noticed the source of Garak’s apparent distress. 

“Why aren’t you ready yet?” The Cardassian asked nearly accusingly. 

“I wanted to ask your advice, since I don’t want any trouble while I’m here-“

“Wear long sleeves, and for the love of the state, don’t walk around like this.”

“What?” Julian asked, puzzled. “I was just changing!”

He didn’t understand why Garak was so upset, was the sight of a bare alien torso so disgusting to Cardassians? It was especially confusing, considering the man’s blue eyes were currently roving across his form on a downward course. He couldn’t be sure whether he was being assessed for vulnerabilities (seeing how humans were generally more fragile than Cardassians), or for his brazenness. It made him feel slightly uncomfortable and then Garak decided he should drive the point home by sliding his gaze back upwards. When their eyes met, Julian felt his cheeks redden. 

“The sooner you tell me what to wear, the sooner I will get dressed! So, Starfleet uniform or civilian clothes?”

Comprehension dawned in his friend’s blue eyes as he pondered the options. 

“I was afraid wearing the uniform might stir some negativity, but then again, leaving a more positive impression of the Federation could be worth considering. If I decide on civilian clothes, I could better keep a low profile, but I also invite more questions and risk looking unprofessional.”

“You have given it some thought, then. Good,” Garak said approvingly. “You’re starting to think more like a Cardassian.” 

The infuriating grin was back.

“What do _you_ think is the better option, Doctor?” 

“I don’t know, Garak,” Julian cried out in frustration. “That’s why I’m asking you!”

“I could tell you to go like this.” He said smugly. 

Julian glared at the man.

“I am pleased you find the prospect of my embarrassment funny, Garak.” He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “For all I know, I might actually get lynched if I go out like this!”

Garak laughed uproariously. 

“Would you please be serious for a moment and help me pick out an outfit so I don’t make an arse of myself?”

Garak merely smiled deviously.

“How our fortunes have reversed, dear Doctor! You never listened to my fashion advice before.”

“That might be because “_I hate it” _and “_That looks horrendous on you”_ is not valid advice!”

“I beg to differ,” Garak said sanctimoniously. “It clearly means you should not appear again in that particular offending garment.”

“If I threw out everything you hated in my wardrobe, I’d be walking around naked.” Julian sniped.

Garak’s answer was a quirked eye ridge and an infuriating little smile. 

“As amusing as this little interlude is, my dear, we’d best get ready. Keep the trousers of your uniform and take…” Here he cast a critical look over the shirts strewn over the bed and picked one up. “This one. It’s the most structured thing you have and thus the least offensive to our sensibilities.”

“Thank you.” Julian said sarcastically, snatching the chosen garment out of Garak’s hands. “You could have said that immediately and saved us all this trouble.”

“And miss your outrage?” Garak grinned. “What would be the fun in that?”

Julian rolled his eyes and proceeded to get dressed. 

“Oh, and put your communicator in your pocket.”

“Yes, _dear_.” Julian grumbled. 

Just as he was putting his boots back on, the whooshing sound of some sort of engines made him perk up.

“I think our ride is here.” Julian commented.

Garak swiveled towards the doorway and stood still for a moment. 

_ Oh _ . Julian realized. Cardassian hearing wasn’t as acute. It was entirely possible that Garak hadn’t heard anything until he mentioned it. 

“You appear to be right. Pack what you need while I greet the pilot.”

“I’ll be right out to help load up the supplies.” Julian promised. 

Once he made sure his bag contained only the medkit, sanitizer, his leftover water pack and an energy bar (which he didn’t need, courtesy of field rations, but someone else might), he slung it over his shoulder and stepped out of the shed. He found Garak efficiently dismantling his perimeter defense and running over the manifest with three Cardassians, two women and a man. 

One of the women was opening the big crate containing the water purifier and frowning about something to her male colleague, while the third Cardassian pored over a PADD Julian realized must have been the delivery schedule Garak had drafted while he’d been asleep. 

“This might take the better part of the day, sir. If we had an operational transporter, we’d be done in a few hours, but…”

“Could we hook up one of the power generators into the skimmer’s transportation systems?” Julian asked on an impulse, so used to providing input in similar situations that he didn’t have time to think whether his opinion was even needed. 

The woman he assumed to be the pilot turned his attention to him.

“In theory, maybe. But our engineers aren’t overly familiar with Federation technology. It might take them longer to fix the skimmer’s transporters than it would to manually move cargo.”

It was in that moment that Garak stepped in.

“I believe the good Doctor and I should be able to make a workaround. It shouldn’t take longer than half a time unit.” Then he turned to the two engineers who were whispering something over the water purifier, clearly already engrossed in their work and addressed them. “That should give you enough time to familiarize yourself with the schematics of the generators and the purifier. Everything you need should be on that PADD.”

The woman spoke in clipped tones.

“I foresee some issues with compatibility, but we should be able to work something out.”

“I have every faith in your abilities.” Garak said, respectfully inclining his head. “Now, Doctor, why don’t we have a look at this transporter system?”

Julian nodded and opened one of the crates to fetch one. He carried the generator to the skimmer parked a bit further away and walked inside after Garak. It would be an extremely tight fit, he realized. It wasn’t an overly spacious vehicle, and while it might serve for some minor supply runs, it clearly wasn’t intended to haul large amounts of cargo. 

“Follow me,” Garak ordered. “It’s this console here.”

Garak tapped the commands and grumbled.

“The pilot said the ship’s engines couldn’t provide enough output to power the transporters, but she didn’t mention a malfunction in the system itself.”

Julian was familiar with the controls and could probably operate these relatively easily, but fixing them was another matter entirely. Luckily, Garak seemed confident in his repair skills, since he pulled out a toolkit from a wall-mount and pried the access panel off. Julian peered over the man’s shoulder and looked at the mechanical guts of the system. A component was fried, that much was obvious, but he didn’t know exactly what its function was. 

Garak pulled out a tool and prodded one of the components. Whatever he was doing took about five minutes, then he declared:

“The central power converter is damaged beyond repair. Luckily, I was able to get the auxiliary one back online. We can re-route with this field generator and it should work fine. For awhile, at least.”

Julian nodded and let Garak work, occasionally handing him tools. 

“I wish I had asked Miles more about integrating Federation and Cardassian systems; it would have come in handy right now.”

“Seems like a wasted opportunity to me, Doctor.” Garak muttered distractedly.

“It’s not my fault the jargon always makes me tune out!” Julian said defensively.

Garak looked at him shrewdly.

“And are you not equally guilty of doing the same? I distinctly recall many instances when your companion’s eyes would go glassy during one of your speeches on obscure virus’ infection mechanisms, or some such.”

Julian blinked and realized Garak was absolutely correct. He was aware that people tuned him out when he got too medically verbose, but didn’t realize he was doing the same. 

“I concede your point.” Julian offered graciously. 

“You are awfully agreeable today, my dear. Must be all this invigorating Cardassian air, hm?”

“Maybe I’m finally growing up.” Julian shrugged. He no longer wanted to be perceived as an inconsiderate and selfish person. He no longer wanted to _be_ that person.

“Experience usually has that effect on us.” Garak said meaningfully.

But was it Garak, Julian wondered? Were these Kelas’ words, or Elim’s?

“I was a horrible friend to you.” Julian blurted out.

Julian lamented his sudden inability to hold his tongue, especially considering there was no reply forthcoming. What else could he say? He couldn’t turn back the time. Strangely, he didn’t even want to. Whatever happened in his past had been necessary, no, _instrumental_ in teaching him lessons without which he’d be floundering even now. He now knew why he never seemed to be able to learn crucial social skills. There was no basis for it, nothing to build upon. How could he form any sort of meaningful relationship with another sentient being if there was no honesty involved? It was like trying to build a sandcastle in mid-air on a particularly windy day. The scattering particles would always be both sad and frustrating. 

“I hated your lies.” Julian admitted. 

“I was under the impression they amused you.” Garak said lightly. 

“They vexed me.” Julian confessed. “The theatricality and gusto with which you performed them were amusing at times, I admit that… But they were frustrating, all the same.”

Garak sighed. 

“You are aware, dear Doctor, that I couldn’t have done otherwise?”

With a long exhale, Julian nodded.

“I know. But I was genuinely trying to get to know you - the real you.”

“And then I shattered too many of your illusions.”

Julian knew exactly the conversation Garak was referencing.

“You said some hurtful things, but you were in agonizing pain. We all say things we otherwise wouldn’t when operating under so much stress.”

Garak abandoned the repairs for a moment and focused on him. Those unswerving, determined eyes made him unaccountably nervous. Would his frail, newfound comprehension survive the man’s next words? He desperately needed it to, for he couldn’t bear the thought of appearing as foolish as he used to be. 

“The wording of your arguments has improved. I am pleased you learned from our little lunches.”

“So, what did I mean by my last statement, then?”

Garak indulged him with a soft sigh. 

“I shall ignore this little outburst of misplaced insecurity and oblige you.”

Julian knew he must be looking both pathetically relieved and embarrassingly grateful, but he didn’t care. This was important. 

“Thank you, Garak.” He said sincerely.

“You correctly assessed and acknowledged the intention behind my words back then; they had indeed been designed to wound you. Next, you graciously pointed out the extenuating circumstances which brought about my disgraceful behavior. And lastly, you inferred that I would not have otherwise shared those hurtful sentiments aloud, had I not been in such a dire state.”

There was more. Julian could _feel _it, hovering ominously between them like unspoken words often did. Compelled to fill in the blanks, he let it all out.

“You meant what you said. A part of you hated me, resented me. And while you never would have voiced it in any other circumstances, the pain gave you the excuse to say it.”

Garak smiled proudly at him.

“You’ve come a long way, Doctor. I’m gratified to see that my efforts weren’t entirely in vain.”

Julian felt like he was having an epiphany. For the first time, he felt like he’d managed to grasp the double meaning behind the enigmatic Cardassian’s words.

“Entirely in vain… Does that imply some resentment over me not getting here sooner?”

The man decided to go back to his repairs, but Julian could see a little smile gracing his gray lips. 

“If only we could work on your awareness of the proper time and place to be having these conversations; that would be splendid.”

Noticing the teasing tone, Julian accepted the chastisement in the spirit it was meant and fell silent. 

Soon they would be underway and it was best to let the man finish working within the allotted time. There would be plenty of time to talk later.

They had two months, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is that progress, Julian? Becoming a bit more self-aware, are we?


	20. Transports and Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian observes more Cardassian interactions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one clue for the discerning readers - pay attention to the language.
> 
> I like having fun with that. :)

Julian felt like a sardine. The four of them were packed in the front, elbows and knees bumping regularly in the confined space. The other Cardassians didn’t seem to mind, in fact, it looked like they didn’t even notice it. The lack of oxygen bothered him, and he wondered why Garak wasn’t having a panic attack already. The interior was positively crammed with cargo, extending well into the seating section. It was a minor miracle they had room enough to even sit. Curiously, any thought of claustrophobia seemed the furthest thing from Garak’s mind, since he was currently engrossed in conversation with the two engineers. The overly technical back and forth was impossible to follow, considering he never really bothered learning the intricacies of Cardassian engineering. 

Instead, he focused on the animated look on his friend’s face as he listened to potential issues and gave pointers and insights into the intricacies of Federation technology. Garak was efficient and seemed to come alive with the discussion. Now, more than ever, Julian was glad he came. He had two months to help out with the rebuilding efforts, and he was determined not to waste them. Even if that meant being completely ignored by literally every other person present. 

It’s not like he wanted or even needed their approval. 

Still, it was quite fascinating to observe their interactions. How much of these people’s faces were masks? He doubted they had anything on Garak - now that was a master of dissimulation! These people’s masks seemed smooth, but they were easier to read. The female engineer was polite and respectful, but Julian could see so much more behind that façade – the cautious excitement over fixing such a vitally needed part of the infrastructure, the slight unease with his presence, but also a subtle undercurrent of wariness towards Garak. He wondered what that could be about. 

The male engineer seemed tired, likely in several different ways at once. There was something harried about the way he kept punching his PADD, almost like he was attempting to catch up to a huge backlog of work and trying hard to hide how overwhelmed he was. The female engineer was obviously his boss, and an exacting one at that. 

The pilot kept quiet and focused on the helm. She appeared to be entirely focused on her task, to the exclusion of everything else. 

And Garak, well… He was friendly, but not _too_ friendly. There was a subtle vibe of I-am-your-boss-and-I-expect-you-to-get-it-done, even if it was softened by the look in his eyes which said: “Just do your best, kid.” Julian was fascinated by the layers of meaning unfurling before his eyes. It was all so much more complex than he’d thought. Was this how all Cardassians navigated their social engagements? Put into perspective, it really put a spotlight over his lack of finesse from the beginning of their friendship. Now, he couldn’t understand why Garak, a consummate conversationalist, would subject himself to such undignified floundering. Julian realized he must have been totally exasperating to talk to back then. His attempts at subtlety had been laughable, and his frustration too obvious. No wonder Garak mocked and teased him all the time.

Julian supposed that’s what teaching advanced astrophysics to a five-year-old might feel like; a concept could be explained, but the child would likely retain every tenth word, keep latching onto unimportant details and, in the end, understand none of it.

He’d been _such_ a child.

“We’re reaching the first drop-off coordinates, sir.” The pilot said. 

“Excellent!” Garak exclaimed jovially and it made Julian wonder what purpose it served in this context. The pilot was legitimately respectful, if detached, so it couldn’t have been for her benefit. Why such theatrics?

He observed the engineers’ reactions keenly. The woman seemed to find it slightly alarming, while the man gave a small, determined smile. If he didn’t know any better, Julian would theorize that Garak wanted to keep her off balance and encourage her companion at the same time. 

With surprising grace, Garak maneuvered around the crates to get to the transporter console.

“Hailing the Research Center, sir.” 

“Patch them to me.” Garak said firmly and Julian heard an unfamiliar female voice over the comm.

“Ghemor told me to expect a shipment; do we need to send porters?”

“No need, we’ve managed a temporary fix to our transporters. Where do you want the supplies?”

“I’ll send you the coordinates shortly, one moment.”

Julian observed the tailor’s relaxed but immobile form and was struck by how professional and at ease Garak seemed in the role of a transporter chief. That’s what happened when a person was ridiculously competent, he mused. It probably didn’t hurt the man was a spy, trained to blend in seamlessly. 

_ Hah _ . _A tailoring joke._

“Materializing, stand by.” 

A moment later, the commline came alive once more.

“You forgot something.” The female voice said with audible annoyance. 

“Adjusting coordinates now.” Garak said and Julian was perplexed by the rich amusement in the man’s voice. What was so funny?

“Energizing.” Garak said and Julian blinked in confusion.

“What the-“ He said with mounting alarm, only to witness the world around him dissolving. 

Once he landed on his behind, the view of a middle-aged Cardassian woman sitting comfortably in a chair greeted him. She was grinning.

“Try to be more careful in the future. The package seems fragile.”

Julian was incensed. 

“Garak!” He yelled indignantly off the floor.

Delighted laughter traveled over the line. 

“It’s clearly no worse for wear.” Garak’s smug voice remarked nonchalantly.

“Luckily, for all involved. Now leave me to my work.”

“Not even a word of thanks?” Elim snarked.

“I was not impressed with the delivery.” She said, even though her expression belied her words. 

“Au revoir, my dear.” Garak spoke and then the line got cut, but not before Julian managed another undignified squawk of the smug bastard’s name. 

“Get off the floor, please,” The woman (clearly high ranking) commanded. “It’s unbecoming.”

Utterly humiliated, his face flaming, Julian attempted to rally his wits and got up as gracefully as he could. He straightened up and assumed his attentive officer stance. 

“This isn’t Starfleet Headquarters, Dr. Bashir. Will you salute me next? At ease, if you would be so kind.”

Julian blinked stupidly a few times, but complied to the best of his ability.

“I am sorry, but you seem to have me at a disadvantage, Madame…”

“Head Medical Researcher Zeyem. For brevity’s sake, call me Head Zeyem. If I like you, I might allow simply Zeyem, but for now, stick to what I said.”

Julian nodded and she continued.

“I was told by Ghemor that you are a qualified physician.” The appraising look on her face revealed she had serious misgivings about his qualifications. “It remains to be seen if Federation standards match ours.”

With that, she got up and Julian stared at her like a hapless child. 

She was _huge_. Head Zeyem practically towered over him, and it wasn’t just the superior attitude. The woman was what could only be described as stocky, but he couldn’t help but be intimidated nonetheless. 

“How well do you know Cardassian physiology, Mr. Bashir?”

Noticing the way she omitted his professional title, he concluded she was being disrespectful on purpose, likely to give him a hard time. He wanted to straighten his spine and turn unyielding but thought better of it. She clearly disliked Starfleet, or the military, or the stuffy protocols – hell, maybe all of the above. Appearing rigid was likely not the right way to earn her respect. Making up his mind quickly, he allowed his posture and expression to relax. He’d make no excuses about the unavailability of data, or flatter their record keeping. It was time to be effortlessly charming and bring out the big guns. _Subtly_.

“Oh, well enough to mend broken bones and remove a defective anti-torture device from the potstcentral gyrus of a former Obsidian Order agent.”

One look at Zeyem and he_ knew _that answer was the least expected thing he could have possibly said. She had clearly hoped for him to become defensive, or to explain everything he knew in excruciating detail to overcompensate for his discomfiture, but he had obviously managed to surprise her. 

“I will give you open access to our anatomical database, to begin with. Since I was told you have an almost Cardassian memory, I will expect you to pass muster until the end of the day.”

Julian was flabbergasted and entirely certain it showed. He was expected to learn everything about Cardassian physiology in a single day? The woman was mad! 

And entirely implacable, it seemed, for she motioned for a console with her hand and sat back down in her chair, proceeding to ignore him entirely. Knowing well enough not to protest, he walked to the console and accessed the files.

This would be a long day, but it would be completely worth it, because at the end of it he’ll get to strangle Garak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sink or swim, Julian!


	21. Too Much Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian's first day as a volunteer at the Research Center. Julian takes a crash course in Cardassian physiology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is sadly sans Garak, but we get a Cardassian Boss Lady instead!

Julian's brain felt like mush. It took him all of five seconds to realize he'd need to put all his enhancements to work if he stood a snowball's chance in hell at even _skimming_ the entire thing. He was used to slowing down his thought processes to pass for normal but had to abandon all pretense if he was to succeed. And damn it all, he wanted to impress the _crap _out of Head Zeyem. Garak too, while he was at it. 

That bloody, infuriating Cardassian! Now he knew why Garak had been so nice over breakfast. He was trying to butter him up! 

Not even bothering to hide his frustration, Julian flipped through the files furiously. Pages after pages of information flickered across the screen, and he kept at it with a rabid determination. Everything from skeletal structure to musculature and tendons, nervous system, types of blood cells, hormones, neurotransmitters... Everything he never had the chance to learn was flickering before his eyes tauntingly. The intricacies of the Cardassian digestive system blended into the molecular composition of their resilient epidermis, and facts about their reproduction swarmed around him like a horrifyingly persistent plague of locusts. As he raced through the data with the tenacity of a man on a suicide mission, he drew comparisons to human physiology. 

It would be quite interesting if he had time to spare to ponder it, but he didn’t have the luxury, so he focused on the most glaring things. 

Cardassian vision was superior, as they could see farther and had no issues with low light. 

Their hearing was less sensitive than a human’s and their ears couldn’t pick up sounds under 15 decibels.

Their brain shared remarkable similarities to the so called reptilian part of the human brain, and had obviously evolved differently from there. This explained certain behaviors.

Their gestation period was around six months.

Cardassians were surprisingly resilient to most forms of anesthetics, requiring either a dose high enough to outright kill pretty much any other species or, apparently, their own anesthetics which could be found no place else. Julian was pretty sure the compounds effective on Cardassian biology were lethal to other humanoids, even in small quantities. He wondered whether this method was used by their assassins. It’s not like he’d be surprised if it were.

There were many things of note, but he simply had no time to spare on analyzing them. He’d been here for five hours already, without a second to rest, and still had more information to absorb. His body was going numb, so he would occasionally stretch his limbs, but otherwise kept at it. 

As he was reading a particularly tedious section about the cardiovascular system, an insidious thought occurred to him.

Now he knew what this was about. 

Garak was punishing him!

When he’d asked the man for forgiveness, Garak said he’d give it to him. As in, he wasn’t forgiven yet, but he could be. If he played his cards right.

If he suffered enough.

Julian wanted to telepathically reach out and throttle the scaly bastard. As if it wasn’t enough that he had to spend his vacation getting roasted in this blasted heat; now he had to work for a tyrannical Head of Medical Research, all without knowing exactly where he was, why he was there, and what was expected of him. 

Except memorizing everything there was to know about Cardassian physiology in less than a day.

Sweat was getting in his eyes and he wiped it away with his sleeve, cursing the day Garak sent him his blasted missive. He could be back on the station now, enjoying a temperature bearable to a human being (it was currently 43°C in the room) and sipping a nice, cool drink with Ezri. 

It was decided. As soon as he got back to Tolan’s shack, he’d murder Garak. Somehow. Now that he knew entirely too much about Cardassian physiology, a whole new array of possibilities opened before him. He currently had the means to employ 47 different ways to achieve the man’s demise, ranging from nearly instantaneous to drawn-out and agonizing. 

He was currently leaning heavily towards long and agonizing.

To drop him like this, without warning, into a completely unknown place, with this despotic woman! Did he not even deserve the consideration of being told the most basic information concerning him? 

Before he had the chance to continue indulging in his self-righteous indignation, he felt something clonk against the console. He lifted his gaze angrily at the interruption and then noticed it was Zeyem, holding out a glass of water, looking at him and clearly expecting he take it. 

Not sparing a thought to what he was doing, he picked it up, drained it completely and handed it right back without a word. At the moment, he couldn’t care less about what she thought about his rudeness, he had better things to do. He breathed in deeply to regain his lost focus and threw himself into the database once more without sparing her as much as a single glance.

The Kardassi symbols swam before his eyes like an irritating afterimage you got from staring into the sun for too long. Everything was blurring together, but he blinked furiously, refusing to capitulate. He was angry at the never-ending stream of data, fuming at Zeyem for being a slave-driver and positively livid with Garak for pretty much everything else currently wrong with the universe. 

This must take a Cardassian student at least a full year of dedicated study and he was expected to learn it in a single day? Lunacy! If he wasn’t already passably familiar with Cardassian physiology, this would have been a futile endeavor. At some point, he realized Zeyem had been full of it when she said he’d have access only to the anatomical database. The information branched out into microbiology and virology, genetics, exhaustive lists of hereditary conditions and pretty much everything but the kitchen sink, even though he could swear he’d find that too if he squinted hard enough. 

This was starting to feel less and less like a crash course, and more like a deliberate and insidious new form of torture. His shoulders ached, his eyes burned and he’d cracked his neck for the third time in the last twenty minutes. When he looked at the time, it was past 18:00. He’d been stuck in this same room since approximately 07:00, and he felt absolutely knackered. He needed to use the bathroom, but dared not show weakness by asking for it. He could hold out a while longer and he _would_. 

At this point, he was 100% certain some of the information served the express purpose of confusing him. There was most certainly junk in this database and he wondered who in their right mind would store such unconfirmed information, half-finished studies and dubious testing; disjointed, poorly classified samples serving as a testament to shoddy research. 

Fed up with it all, he straightened out and abandoned the console. 

“I don’t know who you employ to do your research, but the methodology is atrocious. I refuse to be subjected to any more of it.” He wanted to add: _And now you will excuse me while I find the nearest bathroom before my bladder explodes right in front of you, that would be dreadfully rude of me, wouldn’t it?_ He willed his body to start reabsorbing the excess fluid. There was no faltering now.

Zeyem looked at him inscrutably before launching into a rapid-fire cross-examination of his knowledge. Realizing he would be extensively tested for his recall and retention, he loosened his facial muscles and gave the most pertinent answers possible. The more he answered, the stranger the glint in her steely blue eyes became. At some point, he realized his tone was being filtered through a cheeky smile. A distant thought was spared to wonder whether he was now mirroring the smile Barkan Lokar found so irritating on Elim long ago. And just like young Ten Lubak, he found himself utterly incapable of modulating it. Once the questions came to a halt, she sat there in silence for 9,7 seconds and then rose to her feet. 

He realized he was being handed a PADD and took it, swearing to himself he’d scream if it was more medical data. Curiously, it was the floor plan to a building; an amended one. What used to be a five-story building with two subterranean levels was now lacking its four uppermost floors. There were helpful labels for all surviving rooms, designating their use. He realized he was currently in the Head Researcher’s office. His eyes roved the plan greedily, taking in the locations of all the bathrooms and realized this office had one. Next, he ran a quick analysis of everything this building contained: a centralized storage room on basement level one, several laboratories, operating and diagnostic rooms, the central processing core room and a whole level now designated for patients. Especially interesting was a part of the layout designated simply as “Quarantine”. 

He was severely tempted to throw the device at her and dash for her bathroom, but refrained. 

This was all a test of endurance. If Elim was capable of standing unmoving for hours in the blazing, relentless heat of the Mekar Wilderness, Julian could hold his urinary needs in check. 

Apparently noticing he seemed finished with the data, she plucked the floor plan out of his hands and placed it on her desk uncaringly. 

“Follow me.” She intoned clearly, in a voice that brooked no argument. Unable to do much else, he did as she asked. 

He catalogued the facility visually and noticed there didn’t seem to be a lot of staff here. The corridors were eerily empty, at least until they got to the area designated as the infirmary.

At the whoosh of doors, he was hit with frantic activity all at once. There were Cardassians lying on what was entirely too many cots for a space this size, and they were being treated by what looked like two haggard male nurses and a female doctor. 

As soon as the staff noticed Zeyem, they gave her almost perfunctory nods of acknowledgement and went about their business. 

“Junior Researcher Ghar, this is Dr. Bashir. He is here as a volunteer.”

The clearly overworked doctor looked at him, and her eyes widened. She was clearly surprised by his presence. Why that was, he couldn’t tell at first glance. 

“Pleased to meet you, Researcher Ghar.” Julian inclined his head politely without averting his eyes. She seemed younger than him and he deemed his reaction appropriate. 

“Yes, yes, likewise…” She muttered and repeated his gesture. That seemed to imply they were equals and he supposed she couldn’t know his seniority at first glance. These Cardassians were strange. 

“Triage the patients, please.” Zeyem addressed him and he nodded.

He took his tricorder out and started scanning each patient. Several of them were unconscious, and the ones who seemed aware of their surroundings looked either too weak to protest being treated by a human, or beyond the point of caring. Most were adults. 

He made a circuit of the room and presented his findings. 

“All of these people are malnourished and dehydrated. The woman over there has a crushed femur and damaged nerves in her left leg, it will require extensive reconstructive surgery and soon, or she will lose the limb. That man has a ruptured liver, but it should be easily treated, and the girl over there has a severe lung infection.”

Zeyem looked to Ghar, who shrugged and nodded. 

“Treat the man and the girl and then prep for surgery with me. Nurse Gaddik, take the woman with the crushed femur to the operating room 3.”

“Yes, Head Zeyem.” The man obeyed.

Say what he might about the lack of staff, they did seem quite efficient. And terribly overworked.

Julian cracked open his medkit, took out his tools and got to work. The liver was mended within a few minutes and then he went to the girl and asked for 30 cc’s of the Cardassian equivalent for treating severe bacterial infections. Operating on automation, he extended his hand absent-mindedly and waited. Nurse Jabara would have it in his hands in approximately 3,6 seconds. 

When 4 seconds elapsed, he frowned and turned around to see what the hold-up was. 

Ghar was looking at Zeyem with a slight veneer of panic shining in her eyes and the other male nurse who was still unnamed seemed hesitant. 

Zeyem barked out: 

“You heard the man! What are you standing around wasting time for?”

The nurse jumped as if bitten by a wild animal and scrambled around for the needed hypospray. 

7,9 seconds too late, he was handed the requested medicine and dosed the child. 

Then he turned around, handed the spray back to the nurse and faced Zeyem.

“Head Zeyem, I will require something to operate in.”

“Naturally.” She said. “Let’s go.”

One thing he could say for sure, this woman certainly wasted no time. He assumed that’s just the way it had to be while working under such constraints. 

They passed down a semi-circular corridor and she pressed her thumb against a locker mechanism. With a sharp click, the metal doors unlocked. She reached out and handed him a dark brown smock, which he assumed was their equivalent of surgical scrubs. Once he took hold of it, she closed the closet shut and continued down the corridor at a punishing pace. 

When they were in front of the operating room 3, she pressed a button on the side panel and the doors whooshed open with some difficulty. Zeyem pushed them open the rest of the way and stepped in. Knowing that wasting time was not an option for the patient, he got dressed, sanitized his hands and put on his own pair of surgical gloves. The nurse stood by, but Zeyem dismissed him. The man left obediently, leaving the two of them alone. 

“Our equipment is not in the best state currently,” She conceded. “If it gives out mid-surgery, you will have to compensate.”

Julian knew immediately what that meant. If the machinery broke down, he would have to cut the leg open. He fervently hoped it didn’t come to that. 

In lieu of a verbal response, he gave a grave nod of understanding. They were both professionals here. Medicine used to be practiced long before their technology was sophisticated enough to enable doctors to enjoy a relatively bloodless profession. 

A war torn Cardassia didn’t have that luxury. 

Marshalling his focus, he stepped closer, breathed in deeply and began. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts on Zeyem?


	22. There's No Such Thing As Bloodless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian performs his first surgery on Cardassia and Zeyem explains more about the state of affairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get a taste of the kind of conditions Cardassians have to deal with on a daily basis.

Julian was dead on his feet. The smell of Cardassian blood filled his nostrils and he suspected the scent would persist in his memory for days. 

The power went dead mid-surgery and when the back-up generators came to life some fifteen seconds later, the machine he was using flickered and died. He knew he had no time to even attempt repairs, so he mutely asked for a scalpel and Zeyem assisted. 

They were three hours in, and Julian’s fingers were starting to cramp. Assembling bits of bone and fusing them back together manually was exhausting and entirely too delicate for comfort, but he managed. He was a physician and a damn fine one at that. He’d be damned if he didn’t save this woman’s leg.

Once the femur was put back together and he could no longer detect any stray bone fragments, he focused on the damaged nerves. Distantly, he noticed Head Zeyem’s hands occasionally stroking their patient’s hair. The gesture was confusing, but he couldn’t focus on it now. 

Once he deemed the nerve damage sufficiently healed, he went about closing her leg. There would be no scarring but the patient had lost a lot of blood and he’d be panicking right about now if he hadn’t seen Zeyem injecting her with synthesized blood about half-way in. 

Finally done with his ordeal, he spotted a chair in the corner of the room and collapsed into it. Bone-deep weariness settled over him and he felt tired. His adrenaline levels were dropping and there was now a pounding in his skull. He’d kill for a raktajino and some pain meds right about now. 

“There a washroom through that door, go clean up.”

Julian wanted to be angry at the woman for not letting him rest, but he obeyed nonetheless. As he stepped into the dimly lit washroom, he saw a sonic shower and felt a longing to indulge. He could work fast. Stripping as fast as his body allowed, he rushed to the toilet and relieved himself. Once he was done, he stepped into the shower stall and let out a pleasurable sigh as the device did its magic. As soon as he stopped feeling disgusting, he grabbed for his clothes and gave them a pass too, because who knew when a new chance to clean them would come by? He watched the smock go back to its original color, then turned the shower off and dressed in haste. The tiny mirror on the wall reflected his tiredness cruelly. He slapped himself to look more awake and slung the smock over his arm.

As he stepped out into the room, he discovered the patient had been removed, likely at Zeyem’s request and she took his scrubs, tossing them into what looked like a laundry bin. 

“Let’s go.” She said and he sighed in defeat, but schooled his expression into grim determination and allowed her to lead him where she willed. 

They seemed to be heading back to her office and his suspicions proved correct as the doors to his torture chamber du jour opened. Zeyem went to the replicator and motioned for him to sit in the chair opposite hers. Too grateful to complain about hard Cardassian chairs, he sank into it and stretched his arms as far into the air as he could before stifling a yawn. 

“I’d offer you something to drink, but we can’t really afford to waste our replicators on anything other than water and specific medical compounds at the moment.”

“That will be fine, thank you.” He said graciously. 

She replicated them two identical glasses and handed him one. The water was tepid, but he didn’t care. He allowed himself a moment of much-needed respite. He could hear her settling in across the desk, but kept his eyes closed. Operating in the half-light had been straining on his eyes and he just wished to rest them for a moment. 

“A skimmer will pick you up every day at 06:30. You will work here until 17:00. Your time will be divided between research, triage, and surgery as needed.”

He blinked a few times, unable to respond in any meaningful way. 

Her gaze was cold steel, but her shoulders dropped a fraction. She still cut an intimidating figure.

“You are likely unaware of our circumstances, so I shall endeavor to explain,” She began, her voice flinty. “Approximately 80% of our infrastructure was destroyed. The remaining 20% is in various stages of disrepair. Some parts of the city either have no power at all or experience frequent outages. This facility was designed with its own generator and computer systems and is, as such, self-sufficient. Our systems were damaged in the Fire, and we lost a significant portion of our most sophisticated medical equipment, but all things considered, this building is surprisingly intact as far as medical facilities go. There is around half a dozen other hospital centers in Cardassia City, all functioning in similar conditions. This used to be a Research and Diagnostic Center, but we had no choice but to open our doors to a broader spectrum of patients.”

“I see.” Julian said simply. 

She ignored his remark and continued.

“We are currently the _only _medicalresearch facility on Cardassia Prime. Do you know what that means?”

Julian had a vague idea, but was fairly certain his notions were superficial, at best. 

“You are treating everyone you can, mostly for dehydration and malnutrition, which isn’t exactly what you specialize in, is it?”

“No, it is not.” She said calmly, taking a sip of water. 

“There are more serious medical conditions you could be addressing, but you are too swamped by the influx of patients to give it proper attention.” He speculated. 

“Go on.” Zeyem prompted, looking at him shrewdly. 

“You have an established quarantine area, which likely means you are dealing with some sort of virulent outbreak.”

She remained silent and clearly waited for him to expound upon his opinion.

“You are clearly severely understaffed and-“

Here she interrupted him with an impatient hand gesture.

“We have three nurses, two doctors, one of which is Junior Researcher Ghar, and me. None of us specialize in surgery. The rest of our staff has been reassigned to the only relatively intact surgical center in the Barvonok Sector. All serious cases are rerouted there.”

“The woman we operated on…” Julian began, only to be interrupted once more.

“If you had failed, I would have been forced to send her there and she would have probably died en route.”

Julian sobered instantly. 

Something softened in her gaze, almost imperceptibly.

“I heard you are to thank for the medical supplies and provisions I received today.”

He expected her to continue, but when no more seemed forthcoming, he said:

“I just brought what I thought might be of use.”

“And of use it shall be, Dr. Bashir. I shall see you out now. Make sure you get enough rest for tomorrow. If you will only be staying here for two months, I intend to make full use of you.”

Feeling strangely like a piece of property, he just nodded dumbly and allowed himself to be escorted off the premises. When he stepped outside, he was greeted by the vibrantly crimson twilight. When had it become so late? 

“Welcome to what’s left of Coranum, Dr. Bashir.” Head Zeyem commented solemnly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least he got to take a shower? 
> 
> Next time, tune in for the appearance of someone special!


	23. Coranum At Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian has a pleasant conversation with Ghemor - who asks for his assistance.

Julian pondered Zeyem’s words long after she had gone. 

Garak had been right, Coranum was completely destroyed. Julian thought Paldar had it rough, but the oldest part of Cardassia City was just… gone. There were a scant few buildings which managed to preserve at least a portion of their ground floors, like the Research Centre, but the rest was a flattened, charred plain of rubble. 

Once more, his mind wandered to his Cardassian friend’s letter and its many descriptions of lush greenery. Plant life was not exactly in abundance on this planet; even before the war, but Julian had a sinking feeling it was so much worse now. If Coranum Grounds were burnt away into nothing, and Tarlak suffered a similar fate, what did that mean for the only surviving rainforest on Cardassia? If Morfan was gone… The thought was terrifying. 

“Dr. Bashir?” A calm male voice enunciated clearly, startling Julian out of his doom-filled thoughts.

He was met with a tall, strongly-built Cardassian who was looking at him with polite interest. Julian wondered whether word really traveled that fast, or if Garak had turned into a worse gossip than Jadzia in his old age. Did every single Cardassian on this dusty rock know his name? 

“I was sent to collect you and escort you back to Paldar. I’m afraid there were no skimmers available.”

Now he had a chance to hear the man’s voice, he realized it was familiar. Everyone sounded slightly different over a comm, but if he wasn’t mistaken, this could only be… Well, he could be cunning too. 

“Five Lubak, I presume?” Julian said nonchalantly and offered his hand for a handshake. The distinctly human gesture could serve to make the man slightly uncomfortable and he was quite happy to do so. Stupid, sneaky Cardassians!

The man he was facing didn’t seem at all uncomfortable or thrown off by the gesture and shook his hand firmly with a warm smile. 

“I see Elim has been reminiscing again! He’s gotten more maudlin since his return, but I find it refreshing.”

With that, the man dropped his hand and motioned in the vague direction of the Paldar Sector. 

“I suggest we speak on the way, the streets aren’t as safe as they used to be.”

Only then did Julian realize the man had a Cardassian disruptor at his waist. He fervently hoped it wouldn’t be needed and nodded his assent.

“This at least saves me the hassle of introducing myself.” Ghemor commented lightly. 

“I am sorry, Mister Ghemor,” Julian said contritely. “I’ve had a long day.”

“Don’t worry,” the politician said kindly. “I was not offended.”

Perhaps Garak’s characteristic of cutting through to the heart of the matter was more universal than Julian had suspected. 

“How is the Reunion Project going?” Julian inquired, genuinely interested in the answer. 

Ghemor gave him a pleased little look, one only a man truly passionate about something could give. 

“Cardassia is changing, Doctor.”

Despite the brevity of the answer, Julian grasped the meaning behind the words. The Cardassian society has largely been stagnant; its militarism deeply entrenched for hundreds of years. Everyone was used to it and the fact things were actually changing spoke volumes. According to Garak, their old tactics and power dynamics were crumbling. This was a pivotal moment in Cardassian history and he was currently speaking to the man spearheading the movement for a more open and tolerant society. It was actually a privilege to be here and see at least some of it happening before his very eyes. 

“I am honored to bear witness to it. You seem to be doing right, from what I could gather.”

“Has Parmak been at you too?” Ghemor gave a delighted laugh. “You should be thanking him instead, Dr. Bashir. He spends more time furthering our cause than I do.”

“Proselytizing, Garak called it.” Julian said, already relaxed in the man’s company despite himself. There was something unaffected about Alon Ghemor’s posture and behavior which just seemed to put him at ease. The effect was probably felt even more keenly by Cardassians. 

“Such a good word,” Ghemor mused. “Elim’s always had a way with words. Once you actually got them out of him, that is! He used to be as uncommunicative as a rock, that man!”

“I can’t imagine,” Julian shook his head in bemusement. “When I first met him, he was so opinionated it was impossible to shut him up.”

Ghemor visibly sobered at those words. Now, Julian could see what might draw people to this man. He had an honest face but it was more than that. There was a healthy dose of cautiousness and confidence which in tandem with his open expression made him appear entirely trustworthy and dependable. Garak’s self-confidence was more elusive, hidden within his words and skill, but never so openly displayed. Julian supposed it came with the territory.

“We have all changed, good Doctor. The world has left us little choice.”

This was true, Julian mused. He voiced his thoughts freely.

“Humans believe that times of great strife show people for who they really are - stripped of their veneer of politeness and restraint. War and hunger are excesses which push our deepest selves to the front. On Earth, we have observed that in times of disaster, people are capable of both their most selfless and most selfish deeds.”

“Survival asks no permission. I understand.” Ghemor nodded. 

“I know next to nothing about Cardassian proverbs.” Julian lamented. 

“I would have assumed you’d be quite proficient by now, considering you are good friends with a Cardassian.” Ghemor remarked.

“Ah!” Julian exclaimed. “Consider who that Cardassian is for a moment, will you?” 

The skin around Ghemor’s eyes wrinkled in clear amusement. 

“Garak mostly spent his time torturing me with the _Never-Ending Sacrifice_. I suppose he had to do _something_ to amuse himself.”

“Well, it is a quintessential piece of Cardassian literature.” Ghemor said soberly and Julian very nearly groaned out loud. “Even if it is dreadfully dull.” The man conceded with a conspiratorial little smile. 

“Thank you!” Julian exclaimed in both relief and exasperation. “At least _someone_ agrees with me!”

Ghemor offered a brief smile and then his face slipped into something more serious. 

“Differing tastes in prose aside, I was hoping to speak with you undisturbed.”

Julian inclined his head in understanding.

“Now’s as good a time as any.”

Ghemor didn’t waste time acknowledging his response and continued:

“I have been told the supplies you’ve brought came from you.”

“I was awake for that part of the conversation, so I’m aware Garak told you. You really needn’t thank me, though.”

Alon Ghemor looked at him quite shrewdly at that. 

“Basic courtesy demands I do, Dr. Bashir.”

Julian sighed. The more people thanked him, the dirtier he felt. A part of him was glad Cardassians weren’t telepathic or empathic like Betazoids, or he’d be either severely judged or half-way through a therapy session by now. He was entirely too tired for any kind of verbal sparring. 

“Give us a month, Dr. Bashir. Then we will show you exactly what good came of your generous gift. Would that suffice?”

Julian couldn’t hide his bewilderment even if he wanted to. To be perfectly honest, visual confirmation would soothe his guilty conscience more than any words of gratitude could. And anyway, what did it matter what his motives were if it helped these people? His insensate rationalizations were completely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. The supplies he brought would make a difference, no matter how small, and that was more than enough. Even if he ended up returning to DS9 with his tail between his legs after Garak finally sobered enough to tell him his condescension was unwelcome and undesired. 

The thought of failing in his mission to make peace with the man and hopefully mend their friendship twisted in his gut like a squirming eel. He wanted to deserve his redemption.

“Yes…” Julian whispered. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” Ghemor nodded somberly. “Now, onto the reason why I came today.”

Julian snapped to attention. 

“I am aware you are not a very high-ranking officer in Starfleet - which isn’t unusual for medical personnel - but I also know you have certain connections which could make our voice heard in the Federation and I was hoping you would help us with an important matter.”

Julian considered the words for a moment. He could tell it was serious and had a hunch as to what it was. 

“Is this about the lack of Federation support in your rebuilding efforts?” He asked tentatively.

Ghemor seemed relieved and spoke frankly:

“Just so. I am aware that the Federation also suffered heavy losses, and the fact our governments have never been on particularly good terms with one another isn’t lost on me, but we would like to petition for more aid. Some of my compatriots would rather die of hunger than demean themselves by asking for help, but I don’t share their opinion. The populace doesn’t want to starve to death, and the fact some of our former leaders cannot see past their ridges shouldn’t affect the civilians. Even a little would go a long way, Doctor. And I don’t expect you to take my word for it; I shall use the supplies you brought to prove my point in a month’s time.”

Julian now knew _exactly_ why this man was the face and voice of the new Cardassia. He looked beyond what he was taught and judged his next course of action based solely on what was necessary to the people he represented. Ghemor looked like a man who wouldn’t allow his pride or personal comfort to eclipse the greater good. Julian could also tell there weren’t very many Cardassians like him, and if someone silenced this fledgling voice of reason, Cardassia might very well simply slide back into its old dysfunctional ways. Now he knew why Parmak and Garak were so protective of this man – he was, quite literally, a beacon of hope for all those who wished for change. 

Julian decided he quite liked the man. 

“I will help however I can. If you wish me to pass on a message to Starfleet Command, I’ll gladly do so. I would also submit a personal report concerning the things I’ve seen here.”

“That certainly wouldn’t hurt, Dr. Bashir.” Ghemor said wryly. “We are well aware your word carries more weight than any one of ours. Just don’t tell that to anyone, it would certainly pinch some scales!”

Julian laughed at the descriptiveness of the idiom.

“It would ruffle some feathers, I understand.” 

“Truly?” Ghemor looked at him with shining eyes. “How strange that a species without feathers would use such a saying.”

“Huh.” Julian halted. “I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“We may all seem so very unyielding to Humans, but you will find Cardassians enjoy nothing better than a fine debate. Even when we disagree and _especially _if we do, we leave the conversation enriched. My advice to you, Doctor – do not be afraid to engage. You might be pleasantly surprised.”

The truth was, Julian was already pleasantly surprised by most of his interactions with Cardassians so far. He had hoped to smooth things over with Garak, but he hadn’t expected his trip to be so eye-opening from the get go. 

Things were so strange now. DS9 was his home, more than any other place he’d ever been and he supposed that spending over seven years in one place would make it so. Still, ever since Miles left and Kira took command… Things weren’t the same. While he was infinitely glad the whole ordeal with the Dominion was over, he was beginning to feel useless. Now he was more or less a glorified CMO on a regular space station. This was the real reason behind his research proposals – he was bored out of his mind, at least professionally speaking. Which reminded him, he’d have to find a way to send a message to Ezri quite soon. She should know he’d arrived safely and how he was doing. 

They continued the trek towards their destination in companionable silence. The night had fallen in earnest now, blanketing Cardassia in deep blue shadows. The sky he longed to see was obscured by thick clouds and he could barely see any pinpricks of light in the dark gray canopy. This also meant he could hardly see anything around him. Ghemor obviously sensed his apprehension and gently guided him along, subtly pointing out any obstacles in their path. Julian was forced to remember that Alon Ghemor was a fully trained graduate of Bamarren. He wondered if that made him more or less dangerous than Garak. The strange thing was… He didn’t consider Garak dangerous, not insofar as it concerned him. Not for a long time now. And Ghemor was giving him a similar impression. The man was certainly capable of killing him, but instinctually, Julian knew he wouldn’t. He had no reason to. After all, Ghemor could hardly get Federation help if he killed a Starfleet officer vacationing on Cardassia Prime, Julian thought wryly. 

“He speaks highly of you.” The man commented in a very off-hand manner, which instantly made Julian suspicious. 

“There’s no need to look so uncomfortable, Doctor. Your humbleness does you credit.”

Julian could set him straight, but didn’t feel like arguing his point. He was about the furthest thing from humble one could possibly get. His good memory was sometimes a curse because he could recall precisely how many times he’d been called arrogant in his life. The number was in the three digits range currently. He used to feel a sort of competitive pride when he did better than his peers, but then he’d remember that none of his achievements were his own merit. They might have as well given that Carrington Award nomination to the team of geneticists on Adigeon Prime. 

“I don’t know how open Elim is with you, but you should know that you’ve left a deep impression on him.”

Julian wanted to believe that. He desperately wished it could be true that he’d made an impact on the mysterious tailor he met almost a lifetime ago. Instead he sighed in defeat. 

“Not all deep impressions are good.”

“A significant influence should never be dismissed by tacking on the labels of good or bad to it.” Ghemor said meaningfully, his eyes the only light in the suddenly oppressive darkness crawling around them. 

“I… hurt him.” Julian said truthfully. He had no idea what made him feel comfortable enough to discuss it – he’d certainly never felt comfortable talking about it with Ezri. Perhaps the inability to see the person he was speaking to helped. 

“That’s what we all do to those we care about the most. It’s an inevitability of existence, I’m afraid.”

There was something profoundly comforting about Ghemor’s words \- a benediction bestowed upon foolish mortals who were to be forgiven instead of condemned for their inherent weakness and fallibility. 

It was these words he was still turning over in his head as Tolan’s shed came into view, greeting them with a muted light shining from within as a beacon in the void. 

“Garak!” Ghemor called out brazenly. “I’ve brought your Doctor!”

“Which one, Alon?” Garak’s amused voice reached them. 

“Do you hear that, Bashir?” Ghemor addressed him, “It would seem you are part of Elim’s collection now.”

Julian felt slightly uncomfortable with their easy banter and watched as Garak glided into view. He and Ghemor grasped each other’s forearms at the elbow and laughed like old friends. The politician teased:

“You definitely have a type, my friend. I shall torment Kelas over that when I see him tomorrow.”

Julian had an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. The implication seemed obvious and his suspicions over Garak’s and Parmak’s involvement were renewed. 

“Don’t be cruel, Ghemor. You know very well that dear Kelas is irreplaceable.”

It sounded like teasing – the phrasing, the intonation, the body language all told him so, but something didn’t quite add up and he couldn’t figure it out. 

“Suit yourself, Garak. I’d best leave now – plenty left to do before I turn in. Keep me apprised of any developments.”

“Of course.” Elim inclined his head minutely and looked to the ground for a fraction of a second. _What was that?_ Julian thought. That was the same gesture of respect granted to the old matron from the transport. Perhaps it was also reserved for people of a superior station, except he’d know if Garak had used it ironically, but he hadn’t. The respect was genuine and freely given. Just another proof of the kind of esteem he had for the man. 

“Step inside, dear Doctor.” Garak said and swept his hand through the air in a gesture of welcome. 

“Home, sweet home.” Julian said tiredly and stepped over the threshold.

Now he got to decide how to spite Garak for landing him in hot soup with Zeyem this morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing Ghemor and I know absolutely nothing about his characterization from book canon (aside from ASIT, obviously), so I just had fun with him. 
> 
> As always, share your thoughts!


	24. The End of a Long Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian discusses his long day with Garak.

Julian entered the shack and looked around in a perfunctory manner. His eye was immediately drawn to the bed, which now had a mattress lying on the floor in front of it, taking up pretty much all the space available. His immediate thought was that Garak shouldn’t sleep on the floor since it might trigger his claustrophobia – the bed was raised, so it gave an illusion of room. Besides, it offered a better view of the door and Julian knew how vigilant the former spy was. 

“I see you found me a place to sleep, thank you.” He said sincerely, even if his tone revealed how tired he was. 

“You are my guest, dear Doctor. I won’t have you sleeping on the floor.” Garak said imperiously, but his voice echoed a similar kind of tiredness. He must have had an equally grueling day. 

“Doesn’t the bed offer a better vantage point? I don’t want you to have a panic attack because you were too gallant for your own good.”

Garak gave him a soft look.

“I have an alarm system for that. Besides, it’s been a while since my unfortunate condition was set off in here and I believe we have nothing to fear on that front.”

“Only if you’re sure. I really don’t care where I sleep.”

“If that is the case, then the bed is yours. It will save me the trouble of jumping over you if I need something in the middle of the night.”

Julian sighed theatrically, quite unable to suppress a grin.

“Ah, Garak. Practical as ever.”

“It is a virtue.” The man said with a small tilt. The head movement was minute, but Julian saw it. It was a gesture Julian saw Garak perform before in instances where he would concede a point – which wasn’t all that often. 

Julian tried to remind himself he was still terribly upset with Garak for his rude behavior earlier in the day; Zeyem had chewed him out and spit him out, his head hurt something fierce and his muscles ached in a way that signaled they would be sore tomorrow. The day had been productive, though, and that was something he couldn’t bring himself to regret. 

That didn’t stop him wishing for some scones with moba jam. At least he’d managed a quick sonic shower. He was well aware it was a luxury most Cardassians couldn’t afford. He was quite spoiled, wasn’t he – all things considered?

The reprimand was at the tip of his tongue when Garak sighed and tossed a PADD aside in frustration. 

“Tough day?” Julian found himself asking instead. 

Garak pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered:

“Indescribably so. The engineers Ghemor found didn’t live up to expectations.”

“Let me guess,” Julian interjected. “The woman messed something up in her over-confidence?”

Garak offered a fleeting smirk. 

“Bravo, my dear Doctor! It’s exactly as you said, in her haste and overblown sense of personal competence, she failed to double-check all the intricacies of system compatibility and turned the purifier on prematurely – blowing out the city’s entire power grid in the process. It took us two hours to bring it back online and we have been set back at least a full week’s work to make a second attempt. At least the purifier wasn’t damaged by her incompetence.”

Julian laughed a smidge hysterically at that.

“So you are the ones to thank for me having to cut a patient’s leg open mid-procedure… I’ll be smelling Cardassian blood for days and dreaming about femur jigsaw puzzles for months! I should send that engineer some flowers, what do you think?”

Garak halted for a moment and then started laughing his head off. It was the most unrestrained Julian could remember seeing him, even if it was slightly morbid. Buoyed further by the absurdity of the situation, Julian’s choked laughter mingled with Garak’s. 

This kind of insanity could only happen in real life, for truth was usually far stranger than fiction.

Julian was clutching his stomach and watched Garak double over, similarly afflicted by mirth. If anyone came upon them at that moment, they’d think them both certifiably crazy. 

“I should be mad at you for the stunt you pulled this morning!” Julian squeezed out between shuddering guffaws. 

Garak managed to get his body under control and straightened out, his posture suddenly naught but dignified. It made Julian snort and dissolve into helpless laughter. The poise the tailor exuded didn’t reach his voice, however. 

“You’ve gotten more proficient at the art of conversation, my dear; I can no longer be sure what you mean.”

“Really?” Julian looked at him incredulously, his body stilling slightly. “You find nothing objectionable in the way you shipped me off to Zeyem?”

Seemingly just to irritate him, Garak spoke smugly.

“Quite the contrary, Doctor, I believe it was perfectly expedient and well executed on my part.”

Julian looked at him incredulously, feeling his anger overcoming the tiredness. 

“You beamed me down like a piece of cargo! I landed on my ass in front of a scary-looking Cardassian lady, like a complete idiot!”

Garak covered his mouth with his hand to prevent a snort and his eyes reflected unadulterated amusement.

“It’s not funny, Garak!” Julian huffed furiously. “I was mortified!”

“It can’t have been _that_ bad, if you can refer to Zeyem that way.”

The man’s nonchalance was maddening. Julian was severely tempted to get into the man’s personal space, poke him in the chest with his index and berate him at length about making him look utterly unprofessional in front of his new boss. And while he was at it, he’d rant about not being told he’d be going anywhere in the first place. But when he took his first angry step forward, he found his personal space invaded instead. Garak was standing close, too close for comfort and the look in his eyes was unfamiliar – which frightened him. 

_ He won’t harm me. _ Julian’s mind reminded him, but his body didn’t get the memo it seemed, because his heart-rate spiked and he felt the adrenaline rush acutely. What was wrong with his physical responses? Did this mean he was still wary of Garak?

Alarmed by the man’s stillness, he took in every slight movement like he was prey on the lookout for its predator. When Garak merely held out his open palm, Julian felt like a heel. His entire body sagged in relief and he brought his own palm in alignment with a soft sigh. This day had him too high-strung. He was obviously too tired to think straight. 

In the welcomed relaxation of the moment, he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the uncomplicated physical contact. Elim’s palm was coarse but warm. Julian allowed himself the luxury of letting it linger and felt as if the gesture was draining his stress away. Admittedly, it was a nice feeling after such a taxing day. 

“We should go to sleep.” Garak murmured softly and Julian could feel his subtle breath dancing across his skin. 

“Sure.” Julian agreed, opening his eyes and letting his hand fall away. “We could both use it.” He let the encouragement show in his eyes and smiled despite his fatigue. 

Garak’s hand lowered a split-second after his and he suddenly looked every bit as tired as Julian felt. It was as good a time as any to change into his sleeping attire, which he did expediently and dropped onto the bed bone tired. He could already feel himself drifting off as he watched Garak fold his clothes with care and place it on the table in a neat pile. The man must have caught his eye because he could hear his warm voice in the soothing darkness. 

“Good night, my dear.”

_ It’s so good just to hear his voice again, _ Julian thought to himself.

“Good night…” 

_ Elim _ _ . _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Julian. Sweet summer child.


	25. Week One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian has a most unusual dream...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is early to spoil EmpokNor with!
> 
> Enjoy, my dear~

It's only been a week, but Julian felt exhausted. He’d known all along it would be this way; his vacation to Cardassia was never intended as one, but he was starting to wonder whether he was a masochist at heart. He would either spend his days up to his elbows in Cardassian guts or in relentless research into several infectious diseases, with occasional chats with the rest of the staff to break the monotony. 

After a whole week he could tell that: a) Zeyem seemed a mostly hands-off kind of boss; b) Doctor Ghar was barely qualified for the position as she was essentially still in training; c) Nurses Gaddik and Trengem basically lived at the Research Center since their apartments in Torr were destroyed and d) they were all pretty cautious around him (with the exception of Head Zeyem).

The work was really rewarding for the most part, even if it left him nearly catatonic with exhaustion. The 07:00 to 17:00 had been a massive lie since he tended to stay at least three hours longer on average. Sometimes, it was even his choice. 

And when the hospital skimmer would ship him back to Garak’s in the evening, he kept on researching the viral strains. He could always be doing more, but he paced himself. Operating on less than 70% of his capacity was no good for anyone. If he kept exhausting himself like this, he was bound to make a mistake, which he was trying to avoid at all costs. He was no good to these people in this state, so he put the PADD down on his chest and closed his eyes. 

Garak had even longer days than he did; this was the third time this week Julian had arrived to a dark and empty shack. Already used to the dimness, he didn’t bother with the lights and had gone straight for the bed to lie down while he read up on something. 

The heat had also been a problem, but today – with the sky so overcast, it was manageable. 33°C was quite cool by Cardassian standards. 

Julian relaxed into the mattress, not even noticing its hardness anymore. In the stillness of the late afternoon, he rested. His thoughts, usually so frantic and immediate, slowed to a steady, languid thrum. Cardassia was so much more than he expected – more of a ruin, for one. More relatable.

Just… _more_.

Cardassians were not entirely the way he had imagined them, either. They lacked that certain theatricality both Garak and Dukat possessed, and he wondered if that was also a learned behavior, a sort of crowd-pleasing tactic to employ against the masses. Or, in the tailor’s case, on unsuspecting human doctors. He could feel his facial muscles pulling into an involuntary smile. Once upon a time, he had enjoyed it quite a bit. A part of him even missed it. Garak was so rarely smiling these days. Each day brought good and bad news in equal measure, but the man would usually force a smile regardless. Julian hoped it wasn’t just a front to put his human sensibilities at ease. 

The wind was picking up outside, isolating him further from the rest of the city. The gentle whooshing of air through the rubble created a unique sound vaguely reminiscent of waves crashing against a pebbly shore. Did Cardassians dream? Julian rarely dreamed; if he did it was usually to relive a memory.

The darkness was so inviting and he yawned. He could afford to sleep a bit before Garak got home… That way, he’d be able to converse with the man on more or less equal footing.

***

“The _kanar_ will go to waste.”

“Nonsense. The night is young.”

“It would be rude to drink without him.”

“My sweet Kelas, he doesn’t even drink _kanar_. The last time he tried it, I had to watch him suppress his silly human gag reflex.”

_ That seemed so familiar… _

“Elim…” A soft sigh gusted nearby like an echo of the outside. 

“There’s no need to sound so disappointed. There is plenty of time left.”

“I am sorry I was late…”

“Patience has its rewards, dear Kelas.”

“Coming from a man who usually accuses me of that same trait-“

“Accuse? Preposterous, my dear…”

_ “Don’t give up on me now, Doctor. Patience has its rewards…” _

“Elim, you’ve gotten more defensive. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I am perfectly fine, my dear overbearing Kelas.”

_ Garak. _ _ That was his voice. _

“If a wound is not treated, it will fester. You know that.”

“All my wounds have scarred over.”

_ It was the sound of walls snapping into place… Retreating back into… _

_ “But to the point where he’s unreachable? Where nothing penetrates? How can he express even his basic needs if he’s trapped inside a shell?” _

Thoughts bled through, fighting for supremacy. 

_ Am I still asleep?  _ Julian wondered.

“Clearly not all of them, my poor Elim.”

_ Parmak _ _ … _ Why was he dreaming about them?

“I am too tired, Kelas. Could we leave the toast for tomorrow when we will all be better rested and able to enjoy it?”

Julian wished he could open his eyes and wake up. 

The darkness creeped around the edges of his vision, blurry like milk glass.

_ They are standing so close… _

“You know I can’t deny you anything, don’t you?” Dream Kelas said, his voice full of promise and…

_ Yearning. _

Garak’s sigh drifted in and a distorted image of their palms meeting between them flickered in and out of existence. Kelas’s fingers were starting to intertwine with Garak’s but the man pulled his hand away.

“Don’t.”

_ That didn’t sound like a man stuck in a shell. _

“I am sorry, Elim.”

“Words are wind.” Dream Garak said firmly.

Their darkened forms elongated like shadows swaying in the candle-light. They met in the middle, mingled and then all was quiet once more.

_ I am dreaming… _ Julian reminded himself. 

He was just dreaming.

His fingers twitched as the wind howled around him.

Something clattered to the floor and he jolted awake into a half-sitting position. The shed was dark and quiet around him. There was no trace of either of them. 

_ It was just a dream. _ Julian sighed with relief. 

“It was just a dream…” He whispered, not knowing why he felt the need to repeat it out loud.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he picked up the fallen PADD and got back to work. He’d gotten quite enough sleep for one night.

Maybe Garak would have some good news for a change.

When he eventually got home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts on that dream? 
> 
> Was it a dream at all?
> 
> Speculation is welcome! :D


	26. Good News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak has good news. They discuss a significant issue in their past and Julian has a breakthrough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the real fun begins. Fair warning, grab some tissues, you might need them!

It was another hour before Garak showed up. The thick blanket of clouds was hiding the sky completely tonight. Julian realized how lucky he had been that first day on Cardassia, because every subsequent night the starry sky had been obscured by at least a partial cover. 

As soon as Garak opened the door to step in; dusting himself off while he was at it, Julian greeted him with a deliberately domestic: “Welcome home!”

Garak gave him an amused little look and asked, “Why are you sitting there in the dark?”

Julian shrugged.

“I don’t want to waste power. Besides, the PADD’s bright enough to read easily.”

“Well, we deserve to be wasteful today.” Garak said curiously brightly and turned the light on.

“Oh, how extravagant!” Julian snarked. “What’s the good news?”

This earned him a little satisfied smile from Garak who started to tidy up his workbench. 

“The water purifier has been successfully installed and hooked to our power grid. As of tonight, Barvonok, Torr and Akleen Sectors have access to clean water. If all goes according to plan, the rest of the city should be connected by the end of next week. Nobody will have to go thirsty anymore.”

Julian’s face stretched into an amazed smile.

“That’s incredible, Garak! We should celebrate this!”

Garak snickered. 

“Way ahead of you, Doctor. Ghemor and Parmak are planning a little celebration for tomorrow night. Kelas has offered to cook – don’t ask me how or why, it’s best to leave him to whatever kindly deluded thing he commits himself to, and Alon has volunteered a fine vintage of _kanar_.

Julian’s face scrunched up in distaste and Elim laughed.

“You _will_ toast, and I will hear no arguments! It would be _dreadfully_ rude to refuse.”

The dramatic tone Garak used implied he was talking out of his arse and Julian found it really funny.

“Fine!” Julian attempted his own theatrics and sprawled over the bed like a swooning damsel, using the PADD in lieu of a fan. “I shall merely fall into anaphylactic shock and pray to the gods that the gallant Dr. Parmak will save me before I tragically expire in your arms!”

“You aren’t allergic to _kanar_, Julian.” Garak chided him for his obvious lie. 

Julian was too amazed by the use of his first name to care. This was only the second time (that dawn was the first) Garak had called him by his name. Julian still alternated between the man’s two names, depending on his mood or tiredness. 

“You hate Shakespeare, Elim, why can’t I hate the taste of _kanar_?”

“No, my dear Doctor, you hated _Quark_’s watered down version of _kanar_. Alon won’t offer us such swill.”

“That’s not what I remember!” Julian exclaimed. “You were drinking it straight from the bottle-“

“Yes,” Garak interrupted in an utterly dignified manner. “When I was mentally compromised.”

Julian looked at him cheekily.

“You seemed perfectly lucid when you accepted my proposal to finish the bottle someplace quiet.”

Garak had that infernal teasing glint in his smile again.

“My dear, I would have followed you into the waste-disposal centre if you had offered it to me then!”

Julian laughed, mirth filling him with warmth at the fond memories. They used to be quite ridiculous, the two of them. 

“You weren’t that drunk!” Julian accused. 

“It would have been nice if we had finished that evening the way you proposed it to me.” Garak admonished wistfully. “Instead, it turned out to be nothing but a ploy to get me to the infirmary.”

“It was a necessary subterfuge. I was actually surprised you didn’t see through it immediately!” Julian grinned in a winning manner. 

Garak sighed and abandoned his tools, pacing the length of the shack to come sit by his side. 

Julian made room for Garak and dropped his legs off the side of the bed. 

“You know you could have told me, don’t you? I would have helped you. There was no need to let it get so bad.”

Garak exhaled and leaned against the wall, turning his head to face him.

“Asking for help is a sign of weakness. Placing your life fully in the hands of another is a dangerous prospect – surely that opinion no longer surprises you?”

“Did you honestly think I would hurt you, Elim? Me – a Federation doctor?”

“There are many ways a brilliant young physician can cause harm undetected.”

That blue gaze held steel and mist in equal measure. Julian couldn’t figure it out.

“I never wanted to hurt you…” Julian confessed, feeling frighteningly vulnerable and much too exposed.

“You didn’t.” Garak said reassuringly, patting his hand which rested on the mattress between them. “You have always been kind.”

Julian averted his gaze and shook his head. The hand didn’t retreat and he was pathetically grateful for it. He _hadn’t_ been kind. 

He’d been polite.

He’d been courteous.

He’d been friendly.

But never kind. True kindness presupposed the existence of genuine caring – true emotion.

His emotions were always easily excitable but never deep. They flitted from one subject of fascination to another in an endless stream of superficial impressions he gorged on to hide what he truly felt, even from himself.

_ Especially _ from himself.

Julian guessed it was ironic that Cardassia was the one place in this universe where he couldn’t run away from himself. Ezri had been trying to get him into therapy, but he had assured her he was fine. 

And he was fine, for his standards, anyways – safely compartmentalizing everything into neat little rows of meticulously labeled boxes, all meant to conceal the gaping hole in the wall behind the shelf. He’d always been a shiny façade hiding a structurally unsound edifice. Even the ruins of Cardassia held more meaning than his inner being. How could he ever share it with Ezri? Who wants to be told they are dating an empty husk which constantly needs a fresh stream of stimuli to keep functioning? He may be oblivious sometimes, but even he knew she deserved better.

Unaware, he clutched Garak’s hand.

Cardassia may be broken, but Julian was even worse off. Cardassians would rebuild, would unite in a single purpose – they had always been good at that, even when their goals were war and exploitation, but Julian… 

That’s why it hurt so badly when Garak had called him a Vulcan, so long ago, in the Defiant’s infirmary. The comparisons to a computer hurt him deeply because they were dehumanizing, but that racist comment hurt even worse and not because he thought it was true on the surface level.

It crushed him to think even Vulcans had emotions, even if they worked hard to suppress and control them, whereas he had nothing to suppress except for an endless well of fear that his defect would one day be made public. That was why he reacted so badly when his genetic enhancements came to light – he had assumed someone would connect the dots and see him for what he truly was – a shallow excuse for a human being. 

It was 30°C and he was shivering. How could he be cold in this climate – it made no sense.

The world was a dark blur, undulating before his eyes. The heart beating in his chest was straining to rip itself straight out of his ribcage and his skin felt clammy.

_ I need Kukalaka _ , he thought desperately. _I need an anchor – why did I leave him on DS9, why?_

He could hear a child whimpering outside the shed and wondered numbly if they got hurt playing by the monuments. Maybe Garak would go outside to see what was wrong and leave him alone to fall apart in private. He was about to comment on it when he felt his hand being moved.

“Just cry, Julian. There’s nobody here. Cry as much as you want to.”

Blinking twice to clear his eyes, he realized his face was drenched in tears. They ran down his cheeks like two unbroken streams and he was rocking like a little child. He was so afraid. He _needed_ Kukalaka.

When he felt the pull on his hand, he had no strength to resist and the next thing he could see was the fabric of Garak’s thick shirt. There was a comforting hand around his back and another twined in his hair. 

_ I’m scared _ . He thought desperately as tears overflowed from his eyes.

“Shhhh, my dear.” Elim’s gentle voice soothed, “You’re safe.”

_ I’m so scared _ . 

“I’m here. It’s all right.”

Another shudder broke through his uncooperative limbs.

_ You don’t understand _ . He kept thinking. _You don’t know…_

“Nobody can hurt you here.” 

The gentleness in that usually so rich and playful voice broke something inside him. 

_ That wasn’t the point! That was never the point!  _ His mind rebelled, but his hands only grabbed the man’s tunic as he wept, entirely unable to verbalize his thoughts. 

“Shhhh, my dear. It’s all good.”

_ No, it’s not good! It’s not! _

_ It’s not good because… _

“I’m no good!” He cried out, voice raspy and broken and shrill, piercing through the armor and the force-fields and the darkness and the lies.

“You are good, Julian… I know you are.”

_ No! _

“Jules was good…” He sobbed, clinging harder and trembling. “He was stupid and he was slow, but he was good! Then they poked him full of holes and made him smarter, and they made him believe he was normal. It felt good to be smart, to understand what a cat is, or why fire burns to the touch… But they took his soul, Elim! They took my soul and now I am-“ His voice broke and he drew shuddering breaths, trying to force the shards through the scarred tissue. 

“They didn’t take your soul, Julian. They wouldn’t know how.”

“They did!” Julian bawled and convulsed in Garak’s firm embrace. “I’m not human, Elim, I’m just pretending!”

“Nonsense, my dear Doctor. You’re as human as they come.”

“I’m a black hole, Garak! Things go in, but nothing comes out! I just take and take until there’s nothing left and then I move on to a new star, like some kind of insatiable parasite!”

“It’s called compartmentalizing, Doctor. It’s perfectly normal for a Cardassian.”

_ Stop deflecting! _

“It’s not normal to feel nothing! It’s not normal to abandon relationships once the novelty wears off! I did that to every single woman I’ve dated – to Palis, to Leeta…”

_ To Ezri… _

He felt like a monster – a dirty, disgusting, irredeemable creature.

“And I did it…” Julian whimpered, curling into himself as far as he could. 

_ To you. _ _ _

It was too much. 

“I’m not even a real human…” He wept disconsolately, his impotent hands grasping at the man’s chest in a mockery of communication. He was a terrible surgeon – looking for his heartbeat in another person’s chest.

“Then be Cardassian.” Garak offered simply.

The words pierced through him like a clean sharp scalpel lancing a dangerous abscess.

Perhaps…

Perhaps he’d been searching in the wrong place. Could this be the answer? Was this the truth he’d been looking for?

The hand lovingly carding through his hair moved to his face and he allowed Elim’s movements to guide him. When their faces were almost level and their eyes met, Julian was struck by the beauty he saw. Everything he came here for – understanding, acceptance and forgiveness – was freely offered in Elim’s soft gaze. 

“Your place can be here, if you wish it. You were always welcome.”

And there it was – the light of the moon shining upon them like a benediction and Julian felt…

Free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone use that tissue? 
> 
> Maybe it was just me while I was writing it! XD
> 
> EmpokNor, my dear, I hope I didn't upset you too much with Julian's suffering! :)


	27. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian wakes up in Garak's arms. Shameless fluff ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might rot some teeth, haha! Enjoy it while it lasts!

Julian felt comfortable and warm. He was held in a warm embrace and it felt wonderful. A steady rhythm of someone else’s breathing filled his senses as the only thing he could hear. Something smelled sweet, like moist soil in an English garden, except more elusive and exotic. Sighing in bliss, he burrowed deeper into the arms of the person lying beside him. It was early yet, around 05:00 in his groggy estimation and he opened his eyes to visually verify whether dawn had broken yet.

He awoke to the sight of gentle rays of cherry blossom pink stealing across his sleeping companion’s face. Even asleep, there was something vigilant about Garak’s features, even if it was muted by a rarely witnessed softness. 

_ Elim _ _ … _

Yes. That felt right. He may be Garak in the outside world, but in here… He was Elim – caring, watchful, open. Julian observed with rapt attention as the first feeble rays of light caressed the Cardassian’s scales and ridges; the interplay of subtle shadows and muted highlights dancing between every contour was mesmerizing. It looked so much more interesting than the smooth plane of human skin. Perhaps that’s why he’d always been drawn to Trill – their spots were utterly fascinating. Ezri’s were particularly exquisite.

Thinking about her felt strange. He’d sent her an update a few days ago, but didn’t hear back from her yet. She was probably busy. 

Garak shifted minutely in his sleep and Julian’s attention was captured once more. 

Julian couldn’t remember ever having cried as much as he did last night. The feeling of exultant liberation was still with him and it was all thanks to the sleeping Cardassian he was currently tucked into. He’d been so lost in his mind yesterday, it was embarrassing. Apparently, he _had_ needed therapy. Admitting the truth to himself was exactly what he’d been missing.

No matter how difficult it was to admit it, he was a broken man. Deeply.

But it didn’t have to stay that way. Garak had been kind enough to coax him through the arduous process of admitting his worst faults. Progress never came easy to Julian. Each attempt at introspection was a grueling prospect that took a lot out of him. So much so that he rarely even attempted it anymore. He guessed he must have put it off for too long.

He gazed at Elim’s serene visage with a profound sense of gratitude. Even at his most lost; Garak had found him with ease. Julian wondered how the tailor managed it. It had to be one of the greatest mysteries in the universe. 

Curiously, Julian noticed he felt completely at ease. Here he was, lying in a man’s arms, and felt not an ounce of discomfort. Such was the beauty of a platonic relationship, he mused. He felt protected and safe, almost as if he possessed some secret knowledge or unique insight into Elim’s sleeping mind which told him so. The arm wrapped around him was comfortingly heavy and protective.

Overcome by warmth and a blanket feeling of complete safety, he drifted off into a pleasant dream. 

***

There was a strange feeling of pressure against his forehead. He struggled with the drowsiness he felt and tried to comprehend what it was. The moment his eyes fluttered open, he was greeted by the sight of gray neck ridges peeking out of a familiar set of clothes. The curious sensation which woke him was Garak pressing his lips against his forehead in a clearly soothing gesture. 

Julian squirmed and muttered sleepily: “Are you kissing my imaginary spoon?”

Garak’s disused voice was gravelly and chastising. 

“Please refrain from referring to it as such. It’s a derogatory term and you know it. Besides, it has a name.”

Julian smiled drowsily and murmured in a soft voice.

“_Chufa_, was it?”

“Yes. Much better.” Garak smiled contentedly with his eyes closed. Julian thought he looked so relaxed. It was unusual.

“Why are you kissing my _chufa_, Elim? I can’t feel it like a Cardassian could.”

Garak only smiled lazily.

“Not every feeling is perceived by our bodies, Doctor.”

Julian thought he knew what Elim was referring to. The ever-elusive and much speculated upon subject of souls. Many species believed in their existence. Julian had never been sure but he supposed it was a nice thought. It was certainly something he wished to believe in. How nice would it be if there was a non-corporeal yet self-aware part of him that could continue his journey once his physical form inevitably failed him?

“For the sake of the argument, what did you feel?” Elim asked, his blue eyes peculiarly bright in the early morning light.

“Safe.” Julian answered without thought.

Elim gave him a supremely self-satisfied smile and said,

“Excellent.”

Julian gave him a bemused grin in return and tried to stretch. 

“The Research Center skimmer will come pick you up soon, I suggest you freshen up.”

Julian nodded through a massive yawn and disentangled himself from the warm body of his friend.

It was time to face a new day.

Julian was sure it would be a good one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I disappointed anyone with this chapter title? 
> 
> I was a bit cruel.
> 
> But these two, honestly. No patience whatsoever!
> 
> EmpokNor, hope this fluff brightened your day! :)


	28. Moment of Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeyem and Julian discuss the nature of moments of clarity. Zeyem teaches him a suitable Cardassian idiom.
> 
> Very Zeyem-centric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ConceptaDecency - would something like this work for the Babel challenge? With less focus on plot, of course. :)

Julian was utterly distracted. This was probably the fifth time he read this patient’s medical file and he retained absolutely no information. He shook his head and tried again. 

“Julian!”

This almost made him fall out of his chair. Zeyem _never_ called him or any of her regular staff by their first name.

“Yes, Head Zeyem?” He asked, wondering if she’d noticed how scatter-brained he currently was.

“Where are you, Doctor Bashir?”

Julian blinked stupidly for a few seconds to get his brain in gear.

“Uh, here?”

Zeyem looked at him pointedly.

“You are not here, Bashir. You haven’t been here the entire morning.”

He looked to the floor sheepishly. It would seem he was caught after all. 

“I’m sorry, Head Zeyem.” He said, genuinely contrite. His job shouldn’t suffer just because he was having a personal epiphany. It wasn’t fair to his colleagues or his patients. Julian was well aware that he should have left his problems at the door when he punched in this morning, but the feeling was unshakeable and wouldn’t be denied. 

“So, where were you?” She asked, pursing her lips. He’d be scared if she was as stern as she usually was, but there was an almost childish curiosity in the undercurrent of her tone. “Were you lost in the past or the future?”

Julian gave an awed smile, bewildered by the fact he actually understood what she was trying to ask. 

“Neither,” He attempted to explain, “I was in the present.”

She looked at him scathingly.

“No, I mean,“ He took a quick breath to marshal his thoughts, “I wasn’t present in _this_ moment, but in a moment that has happened very recently. I guess it has spilled over into the here and now.”

“I am assuming it is something of great import?”

Julian smiled abashedly. 

“Yes, Head Zeyem.”

“Well then,” She paced around him. “May I know what it is so we can get it out of your system before you waste any more of our precious time?”

For once, Julian wasn’t fooled. She wasn’t angry, not really. This was likely an attempt to be subtly supportive – the Cardassian way. Tough love, he mused. 

Julian wasn’t sure how to begin. So many things were still fresh in his mind and they were vying for his attention quite chaotically. He grabbed a thread of thought and started there. 

“Have you ever… had a moment of clarity? Like, a single flash where an answer to a question you’ve been pondering for years just suddenly comes to you?”

A subtle movement of her eye ridges answered in the affirmative.

“A lightning behind Akleen. Yes.”

“Is that an idiom?” He asked in eager curiosity.

“It is. Tret Akleen, the founder of the Union was supposedly giving an important speech when a flash of lightning tore across the sky during the most rousing part. Generally, the saying signifies a moment of inspiration and clarity of purpose.” 

“Clarity of purpose…” Julian pondered and concluded it certainly made sense. Scratching his head, he asked her:

“What was your lightning behind Akleen moment, Head Zeyem?”

She huffed and rolled her eyes.

“If you are asking such a personal question, you might as well call me Zeyem.”

Julian stammered: “I meant no disrespect-“

“None taken, Bashir, now kindly shut up or I will change my mind.”

Julian promptly snapped his mouth shut.

“I’ve always had clarity of purpose, Dr. Bashir. I come from a long and distinguished line of politicians. The Zeyem family name used to be illustrious; no Council was formed without at least one member of our family. I am talking here about the civilian government, Doctor. We had a proud tradition we were expected to uphold. Luckily for me, I had three older brothers, so _that_ particular duty was never placed on my shoulders. They got shipped off to the Institutes and I was mostly left to my own devices, which suited me perfectly. My Father was a profoundly ambitious man and his ambition and looks are about the only things I inherited from him. Therefore I, even as a little girl, knew exactly what I wanted to do with myself. Women were expected to go into the sciences, where they traditionally excelled. I was perfectly content with such a career, with one exception. I was determined to be the **_best_**_. _I would stand at the very top of my field, create cutting-edge implementations for the betterment of Cardassia and absolutely nothing would stand in my way.”

Julian was fascinated by her conviction. 

“So I joined the Medical Institute, where I dominated my peers in every conceivable way and graduated at the very top of my class. My years of hard work had paid off. Even freshly graduated I had options many of my peers could only dream about. Research Centers across the Union vied for my attention desperately – I could have picked any one of them.”

There was a storm brewing in her words.

“After nine long years spent honing my mind, I went home triumphant! We celebrated my success over dinner, drinking my Father’s prized _kanar_ and I felt proud that he would take one of the last bottles out of storage for me. I suspected nothing as my Father stood up to hold a speech in my honor. It was long-winded and exultant and I raised my glass to my scintillating success. My future was limitless!”

Julian very nearly gripped the edge of his seat in suspense. Disaster was just around the corner, he could feel it in the concealed tension of her body.

“When he announced I was to be enjoined to a Gul, the _kanar_ turned to acid in my mouth.”

“He arranged a marriage for you without consulting you?” Julian exclaimed in outrage.

Zeyem laughed.

“Arranging a match for your children is not only customary on Cardassia, it is expected. Especially for a family as high-profile as mine.”

“If that is not the part you objected to, then… was he an old man?”

The powerful woman gave him an exasperated look.

“Marrying a man 10 to 20 years your senior is seen as prestigious, Doctor. I had no issue with the man’s looks or his age.”

“Was it his personality you hated?” Julian guessed.

“Not as such. We are quite proficient at ignoring our spouse’s more… unsavory traits, shall we say? Appearances are everything.”

Julian considered the options. If it wasn’t the man itself, perhaps it was…

“Oh! He was a Gul!”

“You’re catching on, good.” She commented, clearly pleased he finally understood. “Enjoining to forge political alliances is common sense as well as common practice, but understand this, Bashir, families were neatly stratified. Keeping our designated roles as civilian servants was important and we upheld that with nearly religious fervor. Until my brilliant father decided he needed to broaden his power base by allying himself to a prominent Gul.”

“I had noticed a certain… disdain for the military in your words, the first time we met.”

“Indeed. I am not subtle about it. I have no reason to be, anymore. My family is mostly gone and so are the vast majority of our social structures.”

“So… You rejected the marriage proposal?”

Zeyem chuckled like he said a most amusing thing.

“It is not in our power to reject a match made by our parents, Bashir. The higher you stand in the hierarchy, the less freedom of choice you have.”

“But you clearly got out of the marriage somehow?”

“Oh, yes.” She showed a particularly predatory grin. “I had a moment of clarity, Doctor Bashir, and I took it.”

“Why do I have the feeling I will hate what I’m about to hear?” He said worriedly. 

“Because you likely will, Doctor. I will no doubt offend your Federation sensibilities with the unorthodox solution I chose for my problem.”

_ What did you do, Zeyem?  _ Julian thought.

“If I got enjoined, I knew my career would be over before it began. I would be expected to breed like a prized riding hound and my considerable intellect would go to waste. My Father thought he was so clever, using me as a resource to fuel his insignificant office. He was a fool to propose such a fine, fully trained mind become nothing but a receptacle for some witless man’s seed! I could not allow his shortsightedness to dictate my life or the welfare of Cardassia. My mission was more important than his.”

Julian’s eyes widened in horror, which she seemed to pick up on.

“Oh, yes. That was exactly what I did, little Bashir.”

“But-“ Julian protested, “Wasn’t there an alternative?”

“None that had an acceptable outcome. This way, the Gul could go someplace else to find a fertile woman, I got to keep my career and nobody would ever foolishly offer me marriage again.”

“But, they could have used another’s ovum-“

“Doctor.” She spoke in a deadly quiet tone. “There is no part left in me capable of sustaining a life other than my own.”

Julian was rendered speechless. 

“Spare me your pity; I have no need of it. I am perfectly content with the way things turned out.”

“You’ve never regretted your decision?”

“Not for a moment.” She said resolutely. “It’s ironic my family have always considered themselves married to Cardassia when I am the only one who ever truly got close to that ideal.”

Removing one’s womb was such an extreme thing to do, but he couldn’t judge her. Her position had been unenviable and she had every right to decide what to do with her body _and_ her mind. If she was content with her choice, who was he to question it? It was simply lamentable that such an excessive action had to be taken to circumvent their awful social norms.

“Now, I am more interested in your little self-discovery.” Zeyem prodded him. “What was it you found so illuminating, Doctor?” 

_ Illuminating… _

All he could remember was the look on Elim’s face when he was offered forgiveness at last, with the moonlight bathing those expressive ridges in ethereal light. Despite himself, he smiled.

“What could have prompted my usually focused human to lose his place, hm?”She said in a teasing tone.

_ Is that what it meant? _

Julian fell quiet, a look of vague astonishment dawning on his face. Yes, that was exactly it! With crystal clear realization he muttered:

“All my life, I was trying to keep my place, even though I knew I didn’t fit.”

He continued, considerably bolstered: “I agonized over keeping that place, no matter how wrong it felt.”

“And now?” Zeyem prompted. 

Julian didn’t rightfully know.

“I guess… I have found a place that fits me better, a place I am welcome.”

Zeyem looked at him curiously.

“Are you used to being unwelcome?”

He considered her question carefully, for it could refer to almost anything. Choosing a pertinent answer, Julian spoke openly.

“Yes. I am used to it. I guess I haven’t realized how sick I was of it. In my quest to feel wanted, I lost something important.”

“Your place.” Zeyem offered simply. 

His eyes lit up.

“Welcome back, Julian Bashir.”

He beamed at her like a praised child.

“Thank you, Zeyem.” 

She gave him an indulgent smile and squeezed the very edge of his shoulder lightly.

“Now get back to work.”

Grinning at her sternness, he complied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Julian is starting to understand!
> 
> It's ridiculously rewarding, isn't it? I'm proud of him!


	29. Why Don't I Get To Be Julian?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak and Julian argue over silly things and head over to Ghemor. Julian sticks his foot in it.

“Elim, are we supposed to bring something as a gift?” Julian asked, panicking slightly.

“My dear, stop exaggerating and get dressed.” Garak retorted.

“It’s a human custom to bring a gift, how is that exaggerating?” Julian huffed incredulously while rummaging through his meager selection of shirts, thoroughly aggravated by his limited options.

“We are not expected to bring anything but ourselves, Doctor. Now, would you stop that infernal fidgeting and pick something, or I will come there and dress you myself.”

The threat was real, so Julian focused on the task at hand. Seconds ticked by and he was no closer to making a choice. He’d already worn some of these and they were a bit dusty. As he furtively tried to smooth the fabric over, he was nearly scared out of his skin as two hands reached under his shirt and slid upwards. 

The only thing he managed was a scandalized: “Garak!” And then he was turned around, facing a deeply concentrated Cardassian who had a most irritated expression gracing his scaly features. 

“We will be late because of your dithering.” Garak admonished him, but Julian barely heard it over the roaring of blood in his ears. The hands stripping him were efficient and professional, but the touch lingered a fraction of a second past the point of comfort. 

_ He is a tailor. _ Julian kept reminding himself. _This is normal._

Yes, perfectly normal. 

Then why was his pulse racing at the touch of the man’s cool skin against his ribs? 

_ He scared me, that’s all. _

The simplest explanation was usually the correct one.

Garak picked the most basic white shirt Julian had and draped him in it, placing his unresponsive arms into the sleeves. Julian’s brain shut down entirely and all he could do is watch completely paralyzed as Elim touched his bare skin while dressing him. The coarse texture of his palms was somehow electrifying, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. 

Before he even knew what happened, his shirt was buttoned up and he was patted on his shoulder and pronounced passably presentable. All throughout, Elim didn’t even bat an eye and Julian wondered what was wrong with him. 

“Let’s go, my dear.” Garak placed his hand at the small of Julian’s back and pushed him forward. 

“How far away does Ghemor live?” Julian inquired, trying to stop thinking about his incomprehensible reaction. 

“A fifteen minute walk provided nothing unexpected occurs.”

Julian nodded and fell into step after Garak. 

“Are we expecting trouble?” He asked the vigilant Cardassian.

Elim grinned wryly and stated in his usual imperious manner: “One who expects trouble is seldom disappointed, my dear Doctor.”

Julian sighed. He could hardly expect Garak to change his cynical ways, but would it be too much to ask to be addressed by his first name? All this Doctor business was getting wearisome. Even Ghemor was more often addressed as Alon these days. Why did everyone have that privilege over him? It was getting ridiculous.

“Elim… Are you angry with me?”

The question seemed to perplex the man, who merely raised his eye ridges questioningly.

“What makes you say that?”

Julian kept thinking about it but came up short. 

_ Honesty, Julian. Use it, _ he encouraged himself.

“Why do Parmak and Ghemor get to be Kelas and Alon, and I don’t get to be Julian?”

Garak blinked. Julian decided to grasp at straws.

“It this where you tell me my name means something horrible and completely undignified in Kardassi?”

“Of course not, my dear. Luckily for you, it has no equivalent. Which is more than can be said for dear Kira.”

“What does Kira’s name mean?”

“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but you asked. It may not be pronounced exactly the same, but it is a fair approximation for our word, _kirr’ha_ – which means underage prostitute.”

Julian gaped and put his palms over his mouth to stifle an incredulous cry.

“That’s terrible!” He fought a chuckle trying to emerge.

Garak shrugged and looked at him significantly.

“It was unpleasant for all involved, I assure you.”

Julian choked on air. 

“I guess that would partly explain Dukat’s obsession with poor Nerys.” Garak commented in an off-hand manner. 

“Dear Lord, Garak!” Julian exclaimed with clear revulsion. 

“I know!” Elim continued in a dramatic fashion. “That man had managed to father seven children on his legitimate wife and would have likely managed twice that many with his extensive harem of Bajoran comfort women if they didn’t keep getting rid of the fruit of his loins.”

Julian was aghast.

“I didn’t know that!”

“It was a terribly kept secret.” Elim shrugged.

“Did Dukat know?”

“What do you think?”

That scathing gaze told him everything he needed to know. 

It made a warped kind of sense. Dukat had been a self-proclaimed benevolent dictator and if he truly was as predatory as was rumored, it would make perfect sense for the man not to want too many of his little bastards around. 

“I will never understand how that degenerate managed to contribute to the creation of a soul as sweet and innocent as poor Ziyal.”

“I’m sorry, Elim. She was really kind and I know she cared for you a great deal.”

“The dear fool loved me.” Elim’s face contorted into a mask with a painful, bitter-sweet smile.

Julian’s pulse was racing. He hadn’t known that. Perhaps it was just platonically. 

“What she saw in me, I still don’t know.”

That didn’t sound terribly platonic. An unsettling thought creeped up on him. What if they had been lovers? It’s not like he could expect Garak to be entirely truthful; his long letter notwithstanding. Even when the implication was clear, his writing was never explicit. Compelled by a force he couldn’t explain, he all but blurted out:

“Were you lovers?”

He regretted his insensitive question the moment the words passed his lips. After all, it was none of his business who Elim chose to sleep with. The look on Garak’s face was one of stunned incomprehension. 

“Doctor, it can’t have escaped your notice that she was but a child.”

Instead of accepting that answer and retreating into safe topics, his mouth operated independently from his intent.

“Zeyem told me age differences are not that big a deal on Cardassia.”

Garak’s eyes narrowed as he lengthened his gait. 

“There is such a thing as too large an age difference. Nigh on forty years is a bit much, even by our standards.”

“Was that a no, then?”

Anger flashed in his friend’s blue eyes and Julian knew he had gone too far.

“I never as much as brushed against her inappropriately. I regarded her as something akin to a favorite niece. If there is one boundary we do not cross, it’s family. Unlike _your _species.”

Julian was stunned by the allusion to incest. He was medically aware of the practice in the past, but it didn’t exactly happen anymore. At least not on Earth, an insidious voice in his head reminded him and that voice sounded suspiciously like Garak.

He had pushed Elim too far. Ziyal had always been a sore spot and Julian knew it, preferring to avoid the topic altogether. It never came up in casual conversation and Garak had never expressed the need to discuss it, at least not with him. 

And why would he when Julian had the emotional capacity of a Cardassian vole?

Julian stopped and grasped Garak’s elbow to halt the man before he marched off too far. He had to apologize immediately, while the wound was still fresh. He hadn’t come all this way to hurt his old friend and he had to make Garak understand that.

“Elim, I’m sorry. This was horribly insensitive of me. It was not my place to pry into your pain.”

The tailor scrutinized his expression and Julian fervently hoped it would pass muster. The weight of that scornful gaze was oppressive and utterly unbearable.

With a sigh, Garak visibly deflated. 

“Please, Julian, stop asking these kinds of questions in public.”

“I will, I promise.” Julian made a solemn vow, willing his honesty to show in his voice and body. 

“I prefer we argue over terrible human literature, if that’s alright with you, Doctor.”

Conflicted over the use of his name being followed by that cold title, he defaulted to a nod and followed Elim the rest of the way in silence. 

Hopefully during their dinner, he could remember to avoid sticking his foot in his mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julian can't go too long without saying something wildly insensitive!
> 
> It's a curse...


	30. A Cardassian Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cardassian party!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a blast writing this, hoping you'll find it equally entertaining!

Julian was relieved when they arrived at their destination. Garak's chilly countenance still hadn't thawed, but he was optimistic that the man's habit of concealing his true feelings would work in his favor for once. He really didn’t wish to air their dirty laundry in front of Parmak and Ghemor.

With one last significant look from Garak, they descended a staircase on a large plot of land which lay strewn with rubble. The edifice had probably been quite impressive once upon a time. Twilight fell around them, casting crimson shadows across the descending steps. Elim preceded him and Julian watched his friend’s familiar silhouette. He was too thin. Julian was used to Garak’s solid bulk, and the sight of the man’s form trimmed down to an unnatural degree made his chest ache. 

Elim’s now marginally longer hair was curling at the ends and framing some of the scales on his back. How wide those shoulders seemed now, contrasted against the growing darkness. 

His right palm itched. Should he… 

_ No. _

The impulse was still there, but he resisted it. 

_ Not now. Not in public.  _ He wouldn’t give the tailor another reason to be angry with him. 

When they arrived to a sturdy metal door, Elim’s fingers flew across the door panel, obviously inputting some kind of code. Why was Julian not surprised Garak had the codes to the home of the leader of the Reunion Project?

The doors whooshed open and a voice greeted them from further in:

“Garak, see yourself in! I’m helping Kelas with something here.”

The former spy didn’t bother with a response and made himself right at home. 

They descended a ramp and Julian was greeted with a startlingly comfortable-looking room. The floor was covered with dozens of overlapping carpets and he was stunned when Garak stopped him before he could step onto them.

“Shoes off.”

Julian just looked at him blankly.

“Is… this some Cardassian custom I am unaware of?” He asked, wondering if Garak was just pulling his leg, but he could see the man crouching to remove his footwear. 

“Ghemor’s house, Ghemor’s rules.” Garak shrugged and stepped out of his shoes. Julian knew he should be complying with his host’s wishes and avoiding the prospect of further aggravating the now barefoot Cardassian crouching beside him, but he was thoroughly distracted. 

He had seen diagrams, x-rays, images, but never did he have the opportunity to see a Cardassian foot in the flesh. The operations he had performed so far hadn’t included it, and even if they had, he had the unnerving feeling it wouldn’t have helped him much. 

The nails were darker than he expected them to be, and the delicate scaling curving around the ankle and flaring down the sides like a subtle dusting of granite pebbles was arresting. He tore his eyes away in panic and caught Garak’s gaze by accident. Who knew what kind of taboo against staring at their feet Cardassians had? He could have just mortally offended someone, for all he knew!

As if to mock him, Garak gave a sly little smile.

“If you wanted to see, all you had to do was ask, my dear.”

Julian flushed beet red and looked away. 

“Do I need to undress you again, Julian?” Garak teased mercilessly and Julian flailed, looking at him with wide, terrified eyes.

“No! There’s no need!” Julian assured gracelessly and grabbed a boot to pull it off, managing to unbalance himself in the process. His mortification was complete when two firm hands clamped around his shoulders to steady him and he witnessed the look of devious joy all but radiating off of Garak.

“Your words hardly inspire confidence, my dear.”

“And you only use my name as a weapon!” Julian muttered all flustered. “First when you were gloating over shipping me to Zeyem like an unwanted parcel, then earlier today when you needed to shut me up, and now to embarrass me! It’s like you enjoy seeing me squirm!”

Julian knew his tone was disgracefully petulant, but he was bothered by Elim’s behavior and chose not to hide it this time. He’d wanted honesty and now when he was providing it, seeing some in return would be nice!

“You were never unwanted.” Elim said quietly, almost like he was sharing some sordid secret. The look in his blue eyes was eloquent and gripping. “As for the other two instances you hold against me, I didn’t want you to shut up, since that would be a tragic waste of your delightful conversational ability and as for squirming… You make such a compelling case in its favor.”

Julian was suddenly running hot.

38°C.

Incomprehensible.

With that, Elim released him and Julian all but sank to the floor to remove his boots in a position which wouldn’t enable further humiliation. It was too hot for socks, so he removed those too. A wide gray hand drifted into his field of vision. 

When he looked up, he could see Elim’s gentle smile. He took the proffered hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Garak was still deceptively strong when he wanted to be. 

Once he was at full height he realized their hands were still clasped and that there was exactly a 23.7 cm gap between them. He could swear it was the smallest 23.7 cm he had ever seen. Unable to speak, he watched in muted fascination as Elim lowered his forehead and leaned it against their clasped hands which hovered between them at shoulder-height. Julian had no idea what the gesture meant, but he could tell with a 100% certainty that he had never seen it performed by any other Cardassian. Curiosity burned in him and he was about to voice it when Ghemor’s clear voice pierced their little bubble.

“There are our lovebirds! Do you need a metric? Should I come back later?”

Julian all but jumped away, to Ghemor’s obvious delight. 

“Are all humans this shy, or is Bashir the exception?”

Garak made a mocking bow and jumped on the Let’s-humiliate-the-human bandwagon. 

“He isn’t usually so bashful, Alon, but I suppose I have the dubious honor of bringing it out of him.”

Ghemor gave an amused huff.

“Come to the kitchen, we need help bringing out everything. Poor Kelas has been stuck there for hours.”

When they entered the spacious room, Julian was amazed by the contrast between the sitting room and this one. They were like night and day – one full of warm textiles and artworks, the other bare and sterile. It was sweltering in here, to the delight of his Cardassian companions. He fiddled with the collar of his shirt and popped the first button. The kitchen was buzzing with activity.

Kelas was behind the stove, currently stirring something unfamiliar in a pan. If he had to compare what it looked like to a human dish, Julian would probably call it some kind of a stir-fry. 

Parmak turned around just enough to greet them warmly, even if a bit distractedly. 

“Glad to see you have arrived safely, Doctor Bashir! Welcome!”

Garak gave an affected pout.

“No greeting for his service class bodyguard? You wound me, Kelas.”

The long haired Cardassian’s face warmed with a sincere smile and he extended his hand across the room, palm open. 

Elim bridged the distance and pressed his palm against Parmak’s briefly, obviously satisfied. 

“You can take the food out there, I should be done with this in a metric.”

“Yes, Doctor!” Elim saluted, to Kelas’s fond amusement. “You heard the chef, men. Let’s go!”

Julian exchanged an amused look with Ghemor, who clearly found Elim’s shenanigans just as entertaining. He watched the two former Bamarren students load their arms with bowls and plates of dishes he couldn’t identify. The only thing left on the table after they departed the kitchen was a bowl of what looked like salad and a pitcher of water.

“The glasses should be in the cabinet over there, Bashir.” 

Julian followed directions and took four, stacking them into one another for easier transport. 

“You may join them in the sitting area, I won’t be long.”

Nodding in assent, Julian picked everything up and strolled out of the kitchen onto the soft carpeted floor. The mismatched carpets were very lush and curiously soft. He supposed it only made sense to rest your feet on something so decadent. It would be a terrible waste to ruin them by trampling all over them in shoes. 

“Come sit with us, Doctor Bashir!” Ghemor beckoned from the floor. There was a space in the middle where the food had been arrayed and the two Cardassians were sitting comfortably with their legs crossed. Bemused, Julian approached them and lay down the items he brought. He sat to Elim’s left and copied their sitting posture. This entire room, with the carpets and sculptures and tapestries proved how little he actually knew about Cardassians. 

Garak handed him a thick light-green cloth and Julian could see Ghemor putting it across his lap, so he did the same. 

“Is this customary on Cardassia?” He asked, unused to eating on the floor. 

“Intimate celebrations are held in such a fashion, yes.”

“Fascinating,” Julian commented, “I never thought I’d see Elim like this.” 

Even though Garak was perfectly poised, there was just something novel about seeing him sitting on a cloud of carpets with his legs crossed. He couldn’t see Garak’s feet anymore and had to fight the incomprehensible urge to blush again. He’d really made a fool of himself, hadn’t he?

_ They’re just feet! Get a grip! _ Everyone was barefoot, so why was he fixated only on Garak? It was ridiculous. 

Ghemor gave a benevolent little inclination of his head. 

“Life has a strange way of arranging circumstances for us.”

In that moment, Kelas emerged from the kitchen, carrying the last dish and six bowls with utensils. 

“Now we can afford to wash the dishes I thought we should do this properly.” He said with a subtle smile. 

“Wait, I thought Paldar wouldn’t get water for another week?” Julian inquired. 

“You are correct,” Ghemor said serenely, “I am fortunate enough to have a water tank with a filtration system. I used to ration it so any of my neighbors could get it, but now I can afford a little drop in water levels.”

“Don’t get used to it, my dear.” Elim told him. “Kelas has gone dreadfully overboard with this little celebration.”

Parmak knelt to place everything on the floor and handed everyone a bowl.

Julian thanked him politely and placed it in his lap. 

After that was done, Kelas took the remaining two bowls and poured water in them, placing one between Garak and Julian, and the other between Ghemor and himself. 

“Wait for the _kanar_.” He said pleasantly and rose once more. 

“This looks delicious!” Ghemor shouted after Parmak. 

Julian had to suppress a smile. 

“You would know,” Kelas retorted upon his return, carrying a spiral glass bottle. “You ate half of it while I was cooking.” He admonished Ghemor the way a doting mother would. 

“Do you know how long it’s been since I tasted something that didn’t come out of tinfoil or a clogged replicator?” Ghemor dead-panned.

Garak laughed and Julian felt himself relax. 

“By rights, I should deny you any. I am sure you’re already full.”

“Customs declare we all have to eat together.” Alon said in a pleasantly reconciliatory manner. 

Parmak sighed and sat next to Ghemor.

“Ever the politician.” Parmak chided gently. 

Ghemor offered a little enigmatic smile and reached for the glasses, pouring them all a hearty dose of _kanar_. Julian watched in apprehension as the viscous liquid crawled down the glass like a slimy snail. 

“You don’t like _kanar_, Doctor?” Ghemor inquired as he passed him a glass.

Elim and Parmak laughed at his discomfort and he rubbed his neck self-consciously. 

“It’s…” Julian searched for words, “An acquired taste.”

Parmak chuckled. “Oh, Elim. The things you do…”

All three men laughed and Julian was left to ponder what was so funny. 

“Well,” Ghemor cleared his throat and let loose his booming, clear voice, “A toast to a brighter future for us all, and to the Restoration of Cardassia!”

Julian observed as the men raised their glasses solemnly into the air, bringing them closer, but never touching and he followed their example. They remained that way for a few seconds and then they all took a sip in silence. Not to be the odd one out, he followed suit. 

The thickness was strange and the taste rather overpowering, but he didn’t want to just gulp it down. He allowed the viscous liquid to sit on his tongue for a while longer to see if that would make it less awful. Maybe it needed to breathe, like wine?

He closed his eyes not to be distracted by the others and gave himself a long moment to analyze the taste. The first thing to hit was the sting of alcohol, reminding Julian of a kind of cloying herbal liqueur. He ran his tongue against his teeth to try and separate the aromas. He could tell some flavors apart, but not attribute them to anything in his memory. The closest equivalent he could name was anise and cayenne pepper, but even that comparison was flawed. This tasted entirely unique. Glacially slowly, he let it slide down his throat. It was warm and sweet and heady, just like that cup of red leaf tea he’d had when he first arrived.

It was still an alien flavor, no doubt about that, but his body no longer felt compelled to bring it up. There wasn’t even a twinge of nausea. Both surprised and pleased, he opened his eyes.

There was a moment of awkwardness as he realized all three of his dinner companions were looking at him. Parmak was a picture of serenity, Ghemor bore the look of a cat that got the canary and Elim merely looked surprised. 

“What?” Julian asked, slightly perturbed by the scrutiny.

“Elim!” Ghemor exclaimed boisterously. “You lied to us! You said Bashir hated _kanar__!”_

“Hate is such a harsh word, Alon.” Garak tutted.

Parmak had the look of a disapproving parent again and Julian had a vague sense of what was happening. 

“How did you expect me to react?” Julian said with narrowed eyes at the scheming Cardassians surrounding him. 

“Isn’t he a sharp one, Kelas? You can sure pick them, Elim!” Ghemor grinned and took another sip.

“I’ve always been a man of discerning tastes.” Garak stated primly.

“Of course.” Ghemor said cheerfully, “So discerning that you swore to me Bashir would cough, swallow and scrunch up his face like a constipated vole.”

Julian’s mouth dropped open in outrage.

“Garak!” He looked at the man accusingly.

In turn, the tailor seemed completely unperturbed. 

“I don’t see why you would take Alon’s word over mine, my dear. You don’t even know the man.”

“True.” Julian almost pouted before leveling Elim with an icy glare. “But I know _you_.”

Ghemor guffawed at that.

Parmak interjected calmly. “I believe Elim’s exact words were: You will have the opportunity to witness the dear Doctor choke and swallow like a disappointed woman.”

That got a reaction out of Garak whose eyes widened at the betrayal and he exclaimed mournfully:

“Et tu, dear Kelas?”

“It’s not my fault you lost the bet with Alon.”

“What bet?” Julian looked at them in confusion.

“Darling Kelas refused to participate and is now claiming moral high ground, Bashir.” Ghemor waved his hand dismissively, as if bored. 

“Were they betting on how I would react to the _kanar_?” Julian asked shrewdly, feeling dangerously close to smacking Garak. 

“Indeed.” Parmak confirmed, unruffled. “Alon bet you would excuse yourself and find a discreet place to spit it out.”

“Well, I for one, am glad we were both wrong!” Garak said magnanimously. 

“Is Doctor Parmak the only one who had _any_ faith in me?” Julian asked, incredulous.

“If by faith you mean having an antiemetic on hand, then by all means.” Garak proclaimed generously.

“It pays to be prepared.” Parmak shrugged.

“You’re all awful.” Julian grumbled and drank more of his _kanar_ in protest. 

Ghemor was shaking with noiseless laughter, Parmak was dignified in his amusement and Garak patted his shoulder affectionately. 

“You are one of us now, Julian. Congratulations!”

Julian didn’t know how he’d managed to obtain such a dubious honor, but he cracked a smile regardless. 

This was a good place. 

He liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, we continue the party! Yay! Happiness!


	31. Significance of Basements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghemor, Parmak, and Julian get progressively more drunk as the evening progresses. Julian learns more about the Cardassian ideal of beauty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adore this chapter. Crazy fun!

Julian had to admit Dr. Parmak was a talented cook. They were about halfway into their food, and Garak had taken it upon himself to pair certain dishes for Julian, so he could get the full effect of the flavors. While he couldn’t claim to like every single thing on offer, he was surprised by the fact he found most of it quite palatable, and some of it startlingly savory. 

All three Cardassians would occasionally offer information regarding the food, such as ingredients, historical significance and more. Just listening to them engage in what was essentially dinner conversation was fascinating. The information flowed in a strangely equitable manner. None of the men dominated the conversation; allowing the others to interject and add details as necessary. He found the dynamic itself more interesting than what they were trying to teach him. It appeared effortless and was extremely considerate to all parties speaking. Julian spoke the least, which astounded him. The others made every effort to include him, but he graciously led them back into the conversation by asking pertinent questions and just listening to them speak. He felt absolutely no need to impose his opinion on anything; he merely let the discussion flow around him. 

Julian noticed they all seemed more relaxed as the evening progressed and the _kanar_ kept flowing. He was currently on his third glass and had to admit the taste was growing on him. It went really well with some of the food, as he discovered. 

He noticed the bowl of water they had received was used as a palate cleanser and that Garak and he were expected to share one; while Parmak and Ghemor shared the other. He’d wondered whether there was a reason for it but concluded it didn’t really matter. As he wasn’t much of a clean freak, sharing the same bowl with a friend was hardly an insurmountable problem. Still, as he sipped his drink, Elim’s eyes locked with his. The tailor was sipping water from the bowl and let his eyes linger on Julian’s face, who gave a wide smile in return. 

Each of the men responded to alcohol differently, he noticed. Parmak got slightly giggly, which was funny to watch as the other two used it against him mercilessly, making him laugh at every opportunity. The doctor would get all flustered and Julian found it disarmingly adorable. 

Ghemor lost some of his intensity and turned a bit mellow. He didn’t become sweet, but he was more sedate, almost like he got wiser all of a sudden. His jokes still amused, but some of that teasing nature was subdued. He seemed satisfied with everything.

But the most curious of all was Garak, whose behavior didn’t change as much at first glance. The only difference Julian could see was in the man’s smiles, which got less… sharp, for lack of a better word. There was something soothing about them now which Julian couldn’t place. Was this the smile Palandine saw young Elim make? Was this the smile which she claimed could make you want to tell him all your secrets? Perhaps not, but it certainly drew Julian’s eye. Between bites of food and snatches of banter, his eyes would seek out Garak as persistently as they used to seek out the location of Cardassia back on DS9. 

He couldn’t help it. It occurred to him that he had never seen Garak look more genuine than tonight. Elim’s posture was relaxed, his gaze still occasionally teasing, but mostly gentle, and there was a pleasant kind of warmth spilling over into his voice. 

Julian was so glad he came to Cardassia. Seeing this was worth the hardship of enduring the sweltering heat, the oppressive humidity and the cloying dust. It was also worth all the aggravation caused by Zeyem and the slow-going research. 

“Ah, Kelas.” Ghemor said lazily, patting his full stomach, “You would make someone a good wife.”

“Are you volunteering, Alon?” Garak ribbed him affectionately. 

“Are you kidding, Elim? I’d marry him just for the cooking alone!”

“Well, too bad,” Parmak said with as much dignity he could muster. “Because I am not interested.”

Ghemor laughed good-naturedly.

“Pity. You are quite easy on the eyes, as well.”

Julian couldn’t tell if that was true or not. Who knew what Cardassians found attractive?

“Oh?” Julian found himself asking, “I don’t know what the Cardassian ideal of beauty is. Can you enlighten me?”

“I have one word for you, Doctor.” Garak butted in before anyone else had the chance to speak. “Dukat.”

“Whaaaat?” Julian drawled in disgust. 

Ghemor’s eyes glistened with mirth. 

“Elim isn’t wrong. At least from a purely physical standpoint.”

“But the man is revolting!”

Ghemor chuckled. 

“You’ll get no arguments from anyone here, Bashir. You asked about the ideal, and he fits the physical criteria. The sharp features, piercing eyes, long neck-“

“Well-defined neck ridges and scales…” Parmak added, and Garak finished in disgust: “Wide shoulders, tall and in possession of a tiny waist.” 

“So,” Julian said skeptically, “Would that make Ghemor the most attractive Cardassian in the room?”

This made Ghemor’s eyes widen and he started clapping, almost like Julian had just given an amazing performance of a particularly challenging Klingon opera. 

“I thank you for the compliment, Doctor Bashir!”

Parmak chided them softly – “There is more to attraction than a list of physical attributes.”

They all showed gestures of agreement and drank in that name.

Julian looked each of his companions over and tried to see them the way a Cardassian might. Ghemor was the tallest of the three and had the most imposing physique by far. His facial features weren’t sharp, per se, but they were well defined. He fit most of the beauty standards, except his neck wasn’t that long.

Parmak won in that particular department. While slighter in build compared to the other two, his neck was long and elegant, and his ridges were well defined. His waist wasn’t particularly waspish, but he was lean. There were subtle streaks of white in his long, black hair, which gave him a dignified air. His face was stern, but kind and Julian thought it was stupid to discredit someone’s beauty based on their facial structure reflecting a pleasant personality. Still, he could see what might be attractive in a more sharply defined face – a commanding look usually reflected a kind of assertiveness and boldness, which was, in turn, a sign of self-confidence, and that particular trait was attractive across many species. 

In comparison, Garak’s physique wasn’t something that would leave many swooning, but he radiated such personality and wit that it rendered the point rather moot. His eyes were a nice shade of blue and were currently open and warm. Julian drank him in, his eye ridges quirked in mischief, his glinting eyes and his easy smile, and didn’t see any flaws. He was just… Garak.

Plain and simple Garak.

Julian felt warm and fuzzy inside, which he attributed to his fourth glass of _kanar_. At some point, they all poured more for themselves and he was no exception. The food was gone at this point, but aside from setting down their bowls and utensils, nobody made a move to get up and clear the mess. 

“I find it ironic, gentlemen, that we find ourselves having such an obscene amount of fun in a _basement_.”

Parmak snorted most inelegantly and stated: “Only you would say such an elitist thing, Alon.”

“Is this a class difference thing?” Julian asked, remembering vaguely that service class usually lived in basements and that the ruling class lived on higher floors. 

“My compliments, Elim! You taught him well!”

“Too well.” Parmak said shrewdly and promptly retreated into his glass. 

“There’s no such thing.” Elim said primly.

“To answer your question, Bashir, yes. This is where my servants used to live, and it was a storage space for all the unwanted things that weren’t refined enough to be displayed in the house. Now, it’s the sum total of my family legacy.” Ghemor said with a note of bitterness.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Julian countered. “Your actions will determine your legacy.”

This made Alon go quiet and pensive.

Parmak spoke softly:

“In the Fire, many families retreated into the basements along their servants. Those who were too proud or too arrogant to do so are no longer with us.”

“Poetic justice!” Ghemor grinned and raised his glass mockingly.

“It certainly made your Reunion Project a possibility.” Garak said in an uncharacteristically somber way.

“What happened to your servants?” Julian asked, suddenly apprehensive. 

“Oh, they’re safe and sound. I dismissed them from my service when they reconnected with their family on the other end of the Union. It would have been cruel to keep them here. In a way, it was most beneficial for me.”

“How so?” Julian wondered. 

“He gets to learn how to slum it like a service class man.” Garak grinned deviously.

“The delights of self-sufficiency, my friends!” Ghemor laughed and drank bottoms-up. 

“I have been trying to teach you how to cook, Alon, but I am beginning to suspect it was a ruse to turn me into your personal chef and I can assure you this is the last free sample you get.”

Ghemor mimed getting shot and sprawled on the floor pretending to be critically wounded, which elicited a round of hearty laughter from the rest of them. 

“Help me… Bashir…” Ghemor rasped, extending his trembling hand beseechingly. 

“You’ll live.” Julian dead-panned and poured himself more _kanar_. Garak laughed like mad and put his hand on Julian’s shoulder.

“Such ruthlessness! I am proud of you, my dear!”

“Yes, _very_ Cardassian.” Parmak said while rolling his eyes.

Julian chuckled and sipped his drink. After a truly magnificent meal, the liquor tasted pretty good. He spared a fleeting thought to the fact he might feel sick in the morning, but he didn’t care. The company was delightful and he felt warm and cozy. 

How strange that he should feel so completely at ease on one of the most ruined planets in the quadrant, and in the company of a spy, a politician and a fellow doctor? It almost sounded like the beginning of a cheesy joke. 

_ Two doctors, a politician and a spy share a bottle of kanar… _

He shared an amused look with Elim and smiled into his glass. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can finish my little joke, that would be amazing.
> 
> I have no talent for jokes... Only Cardassian banter.


	32. Tipsy-Turvy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak takes his drunk human home. Inebriated shenanigans ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're slooowly getting there. 
> 
> You can do it, Julian!

They had gotten up to leave Ghemor's well after midnight, but at that point; Julian's inner chronometer was beyond messed up. 

Alon's parting words were a deeply amused:

“Take your human home, Elim, before he does something else unfortunate to my carpet!”

Julian had wanted to cry out in outrage that it wasn’t his fault he spilled the _kanar_ while laughing at something ridiculous Elim had said, and that he wasn’t some untrained animal to soil people’s carpets as par for the course, but Garak had chosen that moment to help him put his boots back on and Julian kept trying to swat his hands away, with little success. It was annoying and distracting and he wanted to sleep. 

“I’m not a pet, Elim.” He pouted. “And I can dress myself!”

Garak looked at him with an infuriating grin and said as cool as a cucumber:

“After having to help you into your shirt today, I’d say one of us is certainly wrong.”

“Technically, that was yesterday.” Julian corrected pedantically.

“I don’t want any details!” Alon waved them away. “Now, leave. I know for certain you both work tomorrow, and I am not above tattling to Zeyem.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Julian shook his fist, but his swaying and stumbling rather ruined the effect. 

Alon’s face was deviousness incarnate and he said:

“I put you there, Bashir, I can pull you out.”

“Stop tormenting my poor human and go pester Kelas. Better yet, go make yourself useful and wash the dishes. If I hear you’re using him for manual labor again, I will hack your door console to lock you out.”

Ghemor just laughed and left their company, clearly not taking Garak too seriously. Julian thought that was a mistake. Elim definitely could make good on his threat. Just like he did with the shirt today, damn him.

_ Yesterday. _

Whatever.

Julian watched in inebriated fascination as Garak’s bare feet disappeared into his shoes.

_ What a waste. He has such well-defined arches. _

He shook his head. Maybe he was more drunk than he wanted to admit. Garak appeared fairly unaffected by the alcohol. It wasn’t fair. 

Garak put his arm around Julian’s waist to support him and Julian wanted to protest that he wasn’t an invalid, but the words died in his throat. The gesture was somehow… more intimate than it had any right to be. Wasn’t this what he wanted? To bridge the distance, the gulf between them? Wasn’t he tired of dancing around issues and hiding his thoughts?

He was so tired of lies. 

They dwelled in his past and haunted his memories like soul-sucking little insects, reminding him of every single thing he left unsaid. Garak’s lies didn’t bother him anymore. The man lied to protect himself, not to harm Julian. 

Still, he would not discuss anything heavy while they were out and about. He had promised. He would keep his word. 

_ This is important. _ _I can’t screw it up. I won’t. _

But therein lay the beauty of communication, for he could bridge the gap without an uttered word. His legs may be only half-functional, but his arms still listened to the commands issued by his brain, so he slung his arm around the tailor’s firm shoulders to show his participation in the man’s efforts to get his unresponsive arse home. 

“You should have stopped drinking after your fifth glass, Doctor.”

“None of you did!” Julian huffed petulantly.

“We are better predisposed towards that particular drink, my dear.” Garak explained the way he would to a particularly dense child. 

“Hey, I’m not drunk!” Julian defended.

“No, dear Doctor, you are clearly _staggeringly_ sober.”

“Your sarcasm, although sexy, isn’t appreciated at the moment.” Julian fired back, not even embarrassed by his choice of words. It’s not like Garak was the only one who appreciated a nuanced conversation. Pity it was usually at Julian’s expense. 

Garak looked at him with clear astonishment, which passed all too quickly for Julian’s tastes and transmuted into a slightly impressed expression. 

“It’s gratifying to see you so brazen, my dear. Perhaps _kanar_ agrees with you after all?” Garak teased. “Although you might wish to moderate your intake in the future.”

“You weren’t complaining when I was drinking it.”

“But Alon was!”

“That’s not my problem.” Julian slurred as dismissively as he possibly could. 

“That should teach him to be so generous with his fine vintages.” Elim snorted.

Julian snickered and they shared a conspiratorial look. It was a look of pure understanding which communicated – we need to obtain another bottle from Ghemor. 

“You have his access codes…” Julian trailed off slyly.

“Oh, no. He changes those often.”

“Then how-“

“He changes them for _me_. But there _is _a person for whom he _doesn’t_.” Garak was currently giving him a you-should-know-exactly-what-that-means look. 

With dawning realization, Julian stage whispered: “Kelas…”

“Exactly.”

“You sneaky Cardassian…” Julian said with fond admiration.

“I know how much you appreciate a good secret agent mystique, my dear.”

_ I appreciate you, not your damned mystique. _

Julian just grumbled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that – are your speech centers affected? Should I go fetch Kelas? Or Zeyem, perhaps?”

“Shut up, Garak.”

“Ahhh, a headache.” Garak said with exaggerated significance. “Say no more.”

Julian’s hand twitched in a suppressed desire to pinch a particular scale on Garak’s neck which he now knew would leave Elim’s right arm feeling slightly numb for the next hour at least, but refrained. Oh, the things he did in the name of friendship!

“You’re so… infuriating, Garak!”

With a dramatic sigh, Elim stated:

“Ah, the perils of being considerate to one’s drunk friends!”

“Oh, yes,” Julian drawled, rolling his eyes. “Woe is you, so unappreciated and reviled.”

“Ah, it slurs the truth so flagrantly!”

“_It?_” Julian nearly growled. “First I get referred to as a pet human, and now I’m an _it_?”

“Aren’t you? Alon seems to think so.”

“Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?” Julian tightened the hand on Garak’s neck ridges in warning – he was seriously reconsidering sparing Garak that hour of numbness.

“And why would I wish to do such a thing?” Elim said with wide-eyed innocence which was so fake it was practically insulting. 

There it was again, that insidious feeling that he was missing something vital. His brain was trying to kick into gear and puzzle it out, but _kanar_ had obviously addled at least a portion of his wits. Sadly, it was the bits he _needed_. What rotten luck. 

Didn’t Cardassians… What was it Miles had said about that engineer… Gilora Rejal, was it? She had been arguing with him and supposedly…

Oh.

_ Ohhhh _ _ . _

“I know what you’re doing, Garak, and it’s not gonna work!” Julian said self-importantly.

“I am certain I have no idea what your alcohol fueled ramblings mean, Doctor.”

“Oh, sure, play dumb.” Julian huffed indignantly.

“We’re almost home, my dear. Could you save your harsh criticisms for then?”

The condescension was dripping from Elim’s voice, as thick and intoxicating as that _kanar_ they’d been drinking. Julian’s insides were a furnace and a curious anger surged within. He gripped the ridges on the man’s neck and pinched the right scale in retaliation. 

He watched shock flit across those smug Cardassian features and realized Elim’s knees had buckled for a moment. That’s not what was supposed to happen! He’d wondered whether he’d merely miscalculated in his tipsiness, or whether he had misremembered it, which would be significantly worse. 

“You’ve definitely grown more bold in my absence, my dear.” Garak said appreciatively. 

Julian visibly gulped.

“Uh… That’s not what was supposed to happen…” He slurred contritely.

If anything, Garak was even more pleased by this development. It was maddening and incomprehensible. 

“In that case, your quarry is a centimeter to the right.”

Julian’s eyes went wide. This offer of information… Why would Elim correct him? Did he expect Julian to try again? Did Garak want to make an example of him? Julian knew the Cardassian could disable him in at least a dozen ways within the next two seconds and didn’t feel encouraged by the odds his inebriated mind was busy calculating. His mobility was too compromised to make the fight even remotely fair. 

But what scale did he press in his drunken haze?

What was a centimeter to the left?

He sifted through the hastily assembled mental catalogue from that Cardassian anatomy cram session with Zeyem and discarded options left and right. The next scale over was… Damn it, what was it called?

Julian shook his head, hoping it would loosen the information in his brain and make it fall out.

_ Great. _ _ Now I’m thinking of myself as a slot machine.  _

Its name was… was…

_ Kinat’hU _ _ . _

It was a sensitive scale and the database claimed it to be one of the trickier parts of their anatomy to treat for nerve damage, since the nerve cluster situated within it was closely linked to…

Julian went pale.

“I… I’m sorry, Elim!” He stammered in panic.

Elim merely looked at him and laughed in one of his more disarming ways. He seemed more amused than angered and Julian was absurdly glad for it. 

“You transformation is nearly complete, dear Doctor. Only a Cardassian would apologize for such a thing.”

“You, you’re not mad then?” Julian asked hopefully. 

“Why would I be? You tried to temporarily disable the use of my right arm, and ended up accidentally-“

“No! I, ah-“ Julian stammered, “I’m sorry, truly. I miscalculated, I swear.”

Elim huffed in gentle exasperation and picked Julian up, obviously tired of their slow pace. 

It was completely undignified to be carried like some sickly princess, but Julian supposed he deserved a little humiliation for what he just did to his friend, so he locked his arms behind the Cardassian’s neck to ease his burden. The world from this vantage point was strange, the colors blurred and the rocking motion of Elim’s steady footsteps was oddly grounding.

“I had so much fun this evening,” _Elim__. _

_ Garak. _ _ _

“Elim.” Julian said quietly. 

“I share your sentiments wholeheartedly, my dear.”

The voice was soothing, rich and familiar. Julian felt a curious warmth spreading through his limbs.

“Julian,” He muttered against Elim’s ear. “Call me Julian.”

At first, there was no response but the subtle increase in the strength of the man’s grip. Julian didn’t know why, but that felt nice. He felt the man’s nose brushing his cheek and a soothing gust of breath past his ear.

“You’re lovely when you’re drunk, Julian.”

Instead of being riled up, he surrendered into that tone of voice, so full of warmth and sincerity. His heart felt curiously full.

Maybe Garak was right. 

Maybe _kanar_ truly did agree with him. 

Who would have thought?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else loves a drunk Julian, eh?


	33. Physical Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian makes an important discovery about his perception of affection.
> 
> Garak is unguarded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snuggling! Forgive the cliche, it was simply too good to pass up!

When time came for Garak to put him down, Julian was reluctant to let go. He guessed it could be a primitive part of his brain that liked to be held, and Elim was such a steadying presence it was impossible not to feel reassured and protected. He recalled the way the man comforted him during and after his little meltdown the other day. If someone told him years ago that the safest place he’d find for himself would be on a destroyed planet, in the embrace of a Cardassian, he’d have laughed at the absurdity of the claim. Well, the only one laughing now was likely the Universe itself. 

“I have to put you down, my dear.”

Julian whined.

“I know it’s a shame, as you’re keeping the chill of the evening at bay, but you need to get dressed for bed or Zeyem will have your pretty little head tomorrow.”

“I hate it when you’re all reasonable…” Julian grumbled and allowed Elim to put him down. He staggered around the shack and went to relieve himself. 

A lot happened today. It was kind of hard to parse in his current state. He’d been having too much fun at the celebration to chase the thought at the time, but now, when he was finally alone, he had the opportunity to think. 

He had honestly expected to find Parmak irritating, but there was no trace of that tonight. The Cardassian doctor was a thoughtful and considerate man. Julian realized they were only similar on the surface. They were both doctors, both idealistic and passionate about their profession and interests, but that’s where the similarities ended. 

Parmak appeared genuinely patient and compassionate, compared to Julian who was only ever like that with his patients. Outside of his field, he’d often revert into a spoiled brat who sought instant gratification and had the unfortunate tendency to get preachy, whereas Parmak never passed judgment, opting for a more inclusive perspective. He was a natural mediator and Julian was having a hard time understanding what he found so grating about him in the first place. 

Parmak’s patience only served to highlight Julian’s immaturity. 

No wonder Garak liked the man so much. He didn’t have to babysit him half the time. If anything, Kelas’ mothering was probably soothing for Elim. 

Why did gentleness come so hard to Julian? He was kind and affectionate to his girlfriends, but never really to his male friends. It seemed backward and stupid. The Cardassians clearly had no such reservations – they offered small touches all the time. There was less emphasis on personal space among friends, even if the distance and propriety was rigorously enforced in public. It was curious, but he supposed it made sense. Their private lives were fiercely guarded and they would need a safe space to unwind from being so uptight in their job environment. 

Julian liked this newly discovered facet of Cardassian culture and if his reaction to being held by Garak was any indication, he seemed to need as well as crave it. He wasn’t sure why Elim’s touch helped, but he wanted to explore the concept further. Perhaps he was too repressed when it came to friendships with men. Even with Miles, it had taken him ages to create a stable rapport. Sadly, Julian was forced to admit physical affection was not something he excelled at, outside of romantic relationships, where he believed himself dedicated enough to pay due attention to his partner. 

He’d call Ezri tomorrow to see how she was doing. He hoped her classes were going well.

Done with his business for the moment, he washed his hands with the rain-water from Garak’s makeshift tank and smiled in the gloom. This place would likely get connected to the water main next week. He was sure it would be a welcome relief for everyone. 

He tottered back to the shed and was unsurprised to see Garak already ready for bed, bundled in a thick blanket. The sight was ridiculously endearing. 

“Are you cold, Garak?” Julian asked with a quirk of his lips.

The Cardassian huffed disdainfully.

“I thought you were past these mundane observations, dear Doctor. Of course I am cold!”

Realizing there was an opportunity here to test his comfort zone; Julian decided to capitalize on it. 

“Scoot over there.”

Clearly puzzled, it took Elim a moment to comply. He probably didn’t immediately figure out what Julian wanted, but it likely became apparent when he sat next to the huddled figure and coaxed the blanket open. 

“You might as well use me for warmth while I am here.” Julian quipped as he wrapped the blanket tightly around them. He could barely see his companion’s features in the dark, but they seemed uncharacteristically mellow.

“Such generosity! Who am I to refuse this tempting offer of tantalizing heat?”

Julian gave a slight chuckle and tentatively put an arm around Garak. It was a half-hug at best, but even that made his heart pound in discomfort. It wasn’t fair to the man, he knew. Why should Elim suffer his half-baked gestures of affection? A part of him felt guilty for experimenting this way. Should he tell Garak what was on his mind? Or would it be too gauche?

If Garak found this uncomfortable, he definitely didn’t show it. Julian felt the Cardassian shift and a steady hand snaked around his ribs, coming to rest on top of his scapula. The fact Julian’s gesture was apparently, if not welcomed, then at least accepted with good grace made him relax marginally into the embrace. He breathed in deeply to attempt to further calm himself and was distantly aware of a pleasant scent coming from somewhere nearby. It was the same scent he had noticed on Elim’s pillow, the first time he fell asleep on the man’s bed. Julian had no idea what it was but was beginning to realize it likely came from Garak himself. He would be subtle, but he had to determine what it was. 

“Mmm…” Garak all but purred. “You’re as warm as a clear spring day on Cardassia.”

Julian chuckled. 

“I tend to run at 36,7 °C. That should be just above _chilly_ for you, shouldn’t it?”

Garak buried his nose in his hair, making Julian’s heart stop for a moment. 

“Not to me… I’m used to feeling cold.”

It was a simple, if slightly drowsy statement of fact, but Julian felt pain lance through his chest at it. 

Elim was used to loneliness and the Federation’s inconsiderate setting of 22°C on DS9. No wonder he allowed Parmak so close, the man was uncharacteristically warm for a Cardassian. If Julian hadn’t come, would Kelas be here, thawing Elim’s frozen heart and warming his cold bed?

The image made him twitch. 

Julian felt his forehead suddenly running a degree hotter. That sweet scent was still teasing his nostrils and his memory. What was it, damn it? Well, whatever it was, it was certainly driving him to distraction. 

Elim gave a contented little sigh and Julian felt him go lax next to him.

Julian felt like a fool. He could have seen this honest side of Elim if he hadn’t stepped away years ago. If he had only reached in further instead of retreating… 

_ Stupid. _ _ Stupid, Julian.  _

Still, he was here now, offered a new chance to make things right between them and he would do everything in his power to do so. 

“You’re a dangerous man…” Garak spoke slowly, as if he was struggling not to fall asleep. “I could get used to this warmth…”

Julian’s heart raced once more.

What warmth was Elim talking about? The physical or the emotional kind? Julian was having trouble separating them at the moment. 

Despite his misgivings, he wasn’t unaffected by the current position they found themselves in. Elim’s cooler temperature was soothing and if his thumb did occasionally brush against Julian’s shoulder blade, he found he didn’t mind overly much. With a soft sigh, he burrowed deeper into the kindness he felt and allowed his breathing to slow.

The last fleeting thought before blissful oblivion claimed him was that the source of the elusive scent seemed to be…

_ His… _

_ …hair. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took him long enough.
> 
> Too bad he missed the mark again!
> 
> Let's hope Garak's patience doesn't run out.
> 
> Or perhaps that it does? ;P


	34. Kira's Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mysterious black cylinder given by Kira makes a reappearance! Julian finally forwards her gift to Garak, who has a strong emotional reaction to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves for feels!

Julian couldn't remember sleeping so well since before the Dominion war. That was the thought that followed him on his way to work. 

He really tried to focus, but he could tell he was failing, not so much at his job, but at being subtle enough about his distraction in front of the entirely too perceptive Head Zeyem. 

“Bashir, Bashir…” She tutted in mild displeasure. “Let me guess, you’re stuck in the past again?”

He blushed slightly at her chastisement and merely nodded. 

“I know you were celebrating yesterday, but you should indulge in memories when you are _not at work_.” Zeyem enunciated clearly and narrowed her sharp eyes for maximum effect.

She muttered something about overly-excitable humans and went off to do her own thing, leaving him with Junior Researcher Ghar.

Ghar looked at him tentatively and he could tell she was curious, but was holding back, likely because of some misguided sense of Cardassian propriety.

“Just ask, Researcher Ghar.” He sighed wearily.

“It’s not my place, Doctor Bashir.” She said with an annoying dose of deference and fell silent. 

“Ghar, listen. I’m not Cardassian, so I am not offended by a colleague asking questions about my day-to-day life. If you cross a line, which I doubt, I will merely decline to answer. Is that acceptable?”

She looked at him like he’d grown a new head, but rallied remarkably quickly. 

“I am sorry, Doctor, it’s just that we don’t really hear of any celebrations these days… Nothing to celebrate, not really. It’s an extravagance we cannot afford.”

“I know.” Julian said somberly. “The information isn’t widespread yet, but they’ve managed to install a new water purifier on the water reservoir under the Torr Sector. By the end of the week, the entirety of Cardassia City will have access to clean water.”

Her face blossomed into the most heartfelt emotion he’d seen on her yet.

“Truly? That’s great news! That should eliminate dehydration for most of our patients!”

“Hence the celebration.” Julian affirmed. “Now, I think we should go back to our research before Head Zeyem comes back and bites our head off.”

With a soft chuckle, she complied. 

***

Julian was knackered as he stumbled into Tolan’s shed in the late afternoon. Garak was already home for a change.

“Garak!” He said jovially, “I didn’t expect you here so early!”

“Judging by your expression, you seem pleased.” The man offered a bright grin. 

“Of course I am pleased.” Julian smiled. “We both work so much, I barely get to see you.”

The corners of Elim’s expressive eyes crinkled in joy. 

Julian watched him get up from his stool and offer him his open palm. Happy to oblige, Julian pressed his slightly sweaty palm against Garak’s. The man’s skin was refreshingly cool and he let the contact linger until Elim disengaged – about 17.3 seconds later. This time around, Julian noticed he could feel the Cardassian’s pulse. It was slow and steady, like a wide river. 

Julian went to sit on the bed, as was his custom, and stretched. He let his eyes roam the shack and skimmed its contents in daylight, for a change. Elim was tinkering with some device again, and Julian left him to it. As he relaxed into the wall, he noticed the black cylinder Kira had given him resting under the table. With mounting horror, he realized he forgot to give it to Garak when he first arrived. What a stupid oversight! He’d been so happy to see the man, so relieved and so overwhelmed at the same time that he completely blanked out. 

He couldn’t be too flustered about it. 

_ Play it cool, Julian. _ _You can give it to him when he finishes work. _

He rose to his feet and went to pick up the cylinder. As he crouched on the floor to fish it out from its hidey-hole, he realized he was being watched. Giving Elim what was supposed to be a reassuring look, he chided himself for his appalling lack of self-control over his facial muscles. 

“Just finish your work first.” Julian suggested, hoping Garak would give him a grace period to come to his senses. 

“It’s nothing that can’t wait, my dear.” Elim said sweetly and let his tools down. 

“Well, in that case… I think it’s time I give you this.” Julian said sheepishly. “I should have done it sooner, but-“

“There’s no need to explain, Julian. I understand.”

Julian blinked. Well, if there was anyone perceptive enough to recognize how flustered Julian was that he’d managed to forget, it was Elim. Flashing his friend a grateful smile, he stood up and extended his hands to give the mysterious gift to the Cardassian. A sneaking suspicion crept up on him and he narrowed his eyes at the former spy.

“You haven’t gone and opened it without me, have you?”

Elim gave him a genuinely bemused look.

“That would be dreadfully rude. I knew you’d remember eventually.” The tone of voice was the softest kind of teasing Julian had seen the man employ. That at least proved that Garak knew he simply forgot. Julian had to admit he had expected a little bout of humiliation first. Perhaps the tailor was mellowing with age. 

_ Or with Kelas. _ An insidious voice in his head offered. Where had that come from?

“Yeah,” Julian murmured. “You know me…”

He fervently hoped Garak would like the gift, because Julian had absolutely _no_ idea what it contained. 

Standing there as an absolute moron, he fidgeted while Garak was removing the lid. Why opening a gift required such delicate dedication, Julian couldn’t fathom. There was a subtle rustle of some kind coming from within and it sounded like parchment or paper of some kind. 

Garak upturned it delicately and coaxed it out. Julian observed the unfurling of the poster just as avidly as Elim did. It was actually a drawing, one of Ziyal’s. 

Julian watched Elim’s brow ridges shift and felt horrible as he realized Garak’s eyes went wide and tormented. Shifting closer so he could better see the picture, he noticed it was actually a charcoal sketch - a portrait.

Of Garak.

In his shop, mending some garment with a kind smile on his face. There was a blurb of Cardassian symbols in the lower right corner. 

In Ziyal’s elegant hand, it read:

“Stitch by stitch, a humble work;

In his eyes and his hands;

Only kindness.”

Julian felt his own eyes brimming with tears. This answered Elim’s question, didn’t it? This was what Ziyal saw. It was a love letter in the form of a portrait. His friend’s hands were shaking and he drew a shuddering breath. 

“It’s a beautiful sentiment, isn’t it?” Julian’s voice quivered. He hadn’t intended to hurt the man, damn Kira and her lack of foresight! She said it would be something Garak might like! This was an insensitive gift at best, and salt onto an open wound at worst. 

“Where did you get this?” Elim whispered, choking on the words. 

“Kira, she must have been going through Ziyal’s possessions-“

“Yes…” Elim said in a daze. “I didn’t want to touch her things, even though Nerys offered…”

“I’m sorry, Elim.” Julian’s voice bled with sincerity. “If I thought the gift would hurt you, I never would have-“

The words died in his throat as Elim looked at him in complete heartbreak. Anything he could have said was suddenly trite. Julian wanted to apologize again, but the sight of the usually strong and immovable man in silent tears undid him completely. He gently pulled the drawing out of Elim’s lax grasp and set it on the table. All the while, Elim’s blue eyes followed him. 

Julian’s face was awash in tears, but he offered not a word. His hands reached for Elim’s glistening face and he wiped the Cardassian’s tears gently in complete silence. In that moment, there was nothing strange about two grown men standing perfectly still with tears streaming down their faces. Julian’s heart swelled – he could finally repay Elim’s kindness for the other night, so he smiled an encouraging, bitter-sweet smile and pulled Garak into a gentle embrace. 

The Cardassian trembled in his arms, but Julian just stood there as a pillar of support, rubbing the heaving back soothingly. Elim’s hands wrapped tightly around his back and clutched at his shirt. 

“I’m here, Elim,” Julian echoed the wise words. “It’s all right. It’s going to be all right.”

Garak wept and convulsed in his arms, but made no sound.

“You can let your voice out,” Julian soothed in hushed tones. “Just let it all out.”

At that, he felt the body in his embrace go unnaturally still. Julian’s heart was hammering in his chest insistently and he felt like any moment now Garak would push him away, berate him and tell him his help was unneeded and that he was hated. 

Instead, the softest whimper reached Julian’s ears. It grew like a breeze through the reeds until it turned into a heart-wrenching keen. Julian had heard Klingons mourning their dead, but theirs was such a crass, primal cry. A Cardassian, _this_ particular Cardassian, making such an unrestrained mournful sound wiped away everything Julian used to think he knew about sadness. After all, he could feel the emotion in the hollow of his bones, reverberating, ricocheting through his veins, halting his heart and freezing his blood. 

He couldn’t take such sadness; he had never felt anything like it and wasn’t equipped to handle it. The only thing he wanted was for it to stop. 

“That’s good, Elim.” He said instead, pushing through his irrelevant feelings of discomfort. “That’s really good, just let it all go.”

Elim was trembling again and Julian stood his ground, holding the man upright; never ceasing his gentle ministrations. He would repay the favor and he would make Elim better. He deserved it; that and more – so much more than Julian was capable of giving. Kelas would have been more suitable for this task, as comforting and compassionate as he was, but he wasn’t here. 

Julian was. 

For once in his life, he was determined to be what was needed of him, but not in a hospital setting.

Elim was his friend. 

His dearest and oldest and truest friend.

Julian would hold on to dear life and give of himself until it was enough. Everything – words, support, tears, blood and bone. He would give it all.

_ Anything you need. Anything you want, Elim. _

Whatever merciful Hebitian gods existed, must have taken pity on his damaged soul, because he could feel the intensity of Elim’s thrashing decreasing. Slowly, but surely, the raging tide receded back into the ocean. 

Once his sobs had subsided, the man muttered:

“Yes, Julian.” 

“Yes, what?” Julian asked, puzzled. 

“It _is_ a beautiful sentiment.”

“I’m glad you agree.” Julian murmured and felt Garak disengage. He observed the man for any further signs of distress, but why ever that was, the storm seemed to have passed and he allowed his friend to calm down on his own. He could adapt to whatever it was Garak needed.

That was why he allowed the man to take his hands in his and raise his knuckles to his gray lips. It was the briefest of brushes and Julian could feel Elim’s cool breath ghosting over his skin.

“Thank you, my dear. I will cherish it.”

“Maybe we could replicate a nice frame for it, what do you think?” Julian asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“That would be lovely.” Elim said with a sincere smile and relinquished his hold on Julian’s hands. 

It all felt so very strange now that it was over.

_ I did it. I helped him.  _

Julian smiled warmly.

The glow inside his chest was one of triumph and fulfillment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! I wonder if anyone even noticed Kira's gift disappearing and never being discussed! Or wondered what it contained, haha.
> 
> Well, there you go! Mystery solved. At least partially.


	35. Calling DS9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian calls Ezri and they catch up. Julian chastises Kira for her choice of gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter with no appearance from Garak, but he is certainly mentioned...

After obtaining Zeyem blessing for a fifteen minute break and a subspace call to DS9, Julian settled in behind his console and pressed the call button. He had so much to tell Ezri! 

After about thirty seconds, the call connected and her pretty face appeared on his screen.

“Ezri!” He said happily and watched her soft features reciprocate a smile. 

“Hello Julian,” She said, “I have a session in half an hour, so I can’t chat longer than that.”

“Oh,” Julian rubbed his neck absent-mindedly. “That’s fine; I only got a fifteen minute break. Head Zeyem runs a tight ship.”

“That’s your boss at the Research Center, right?” Ezri enquired and Julian confirmed.

“The one and only. She’s one tough lady.”

“You seem fond of her.” The Trill observed and Julian smiled sheepishly.

“Yes, I suppose I am. She’s very efficient and stays out of my hair for the most part. And she’s wicked sharp, too, you should see her research into airborne pathogens, it’s-“

“Julian, I don’t have time for one of your professional monologues.”

Taken aback, he snapped his mouth shut. He’d done it again.

_ Thoughtless. _

“Sorry, Ezri.”

His girlfriend just sighed and amusement stole across her face. 

“I know how you get when you’re passionate about a project, Julian, and if I had more time I’d listen, but I’ve just been a bit stressed.”

Oh. Did she need support? Probably.

“What’s wrong? A tough case? Morn having issues with his mother again?”

Ezri rolled her eyes at his attempt at levity and said wearily:

“It’s these command courses.” 

“What about them?”

“Every time I’m faced with a stressful decision… The other hosts pop up. Tobin keeps biting his cuticles, Torias floods me with escape routes, Curzon chides me for my indecisiveness and Joran just wants to shoot everything!”

Julian couldn’t help but laugh at her descriptive floundering.

“It’s not funny, Julian!” Her temper flared. “I am trying hard to accomplish something and my boyfriend is traipsing around Cardassia, playing frontier medicine!”

“Hey!” Julian felt a prickle. “That’s not fair!”

Ezri deflated.

“I’m sorry, Julian. I’m just… having a hard time with all this.”

Constructive. He needed to say something constructive. 

“Why don’t you try getting your female hosts to run interference? Jadzia was always cool under pressure.”

Ezri gave him a venomous look which kind of reminded him of Jadzia.

“That’s not the point, Julian! I have to be able to do it myself, not let the other hosts overwrite my personality whenever the situation calls for it!”

“I never suggested that!” Julian got agitated, but attempted to rein himself in. She needed support, not an argument. “Listen, perhaps a nice night to yourself would help you relax. Take a meditation program in the holosuites or something.”

Ezri seemed to be fighting an impulse to say something scathing, but she refrained. 

“Never mind.” She huffed. “How are you? Aside from work?”

Julian gave a soft smile at that.

“I’m really glad I came here. Cardassia is a ruin, but the people around me are wonderful.”

“Oh? Who are you referring to?”

“Well, there’s Doctor Parmak, he’s a sweet man – you should see the way he mothers Garak, it’s too funny to watch! Then there’s Ghemor, he’s the leader of the Restoration Project, he’s trying to change Cardassia for the better. It is so incredible to witness! I think he might actually succeed if nobody manages to assassinate him…”

“Mhm.” Ezri smiled. “And how is Garak?”

Julian grinned.

“Elim’s great. You should see him in his element, so competent – coordinating repairs and supply runs, always tinkering in his shed… It’s kind of awe-inspiring actually.”

“Well, say hello for me, Julian.”

“I will!”

With that, she dropped the call and Julian was surprised to see the fifteen-minute mark was still far off. Finding himself with eight minutes to spare, he wondered what he should do. Calling Ezri back would be pointless, she was obviously busy. He had a feeling he did something wrong and wanted to apologize for it, but there was currently no point. There would be another chance soon. 

He could always call Nerys. 

Brightening at the prospect, he input the necessary commands. 

Her harried face filled his screen as she said:

“For the tenth time, I said- oh, Julian!”

“Tough day?” He inquired as she visibly relaxed into her chair. She was obviously hard at work. 

“Sometimes I don’t know how we’re managing to keep this rusting bucket afloat,” She sighed. “I think the station misses the Chief’s magic touch and is getting huffy like a spoiled child in his absence.”

“I miss him too.” Julian smiled a touch sadly. 

“We all do.” Kira said matter-of-factly. 

“I gave Garak your gift, by the way.”

“Oh? Did he like it?” Nerys asked nonchalantly, but Julian could tell she had her own misgivings about the choice. 

“That was quite insensitive of you, Nerys.” Julian’s brows knitted. “I’ve seen him shaken before, but never like that.” He stared at her crossly and got even more indignant when she seemed dismissive. 

“I’m serious, Nerys! He was weeping in my arms!”

Kira seemed flabbergasted at that. 

“Garak? Weeping? You’re joking!” She said boisterously, obviously trying to convince herself.

“I’ve never seen Elim like that, Nerys. I don’t think anyone has. If it hadn’t been so cathartic, I’d be furious with you.”

She sighed and sank further into her chair in defeat. 

“I was going through her drawings and saw that one. It felt… wrong to keep it. I know she was in love with Garak, and that love can be blind, but… No matter what happened between them, it was time to let it go. He at least deserves a token to remember her by.”

“He thought of Ziyal as a favorite niece, just so you know.” Julian commented.

“Did he?” Kira seemed surprised. “I could never be sure.”

“Garak considered her a child and said he’d never as much as brushed against her inappropriately.”

“And you believed him?” Nerys said incredulously.

“Of course I believed him. Why would he lie about that?”

“I don’t know.” Kira shrugged. “He seemed quite eager to harm Damar at first.”

“He forgave Damar, in the end.”

“It’s easier to forgive someone who is dead.” Kira said shrewdly. 

“Nerys… you considered Ziyal family. Why is it so inconceivable that Garak felt the same way?”

This seemed to make her ponder.

He’d been so adamant when he made the claim to Nerys, but now he wasn’t so sure anymore. What if Garak had lied to him? It wouldn’t be the first time. Except then he remembered the man’s broken voice and his anger at the implication, and the never-ending tears and knew his doubts were misplaced. Elim was being honest. He lost someone important to him, someone who was a bright spot of sunlight in his cold, drab existence. The loss would be staggering for anyone, but he suspected it was doubly so for a man so profoundly lonely. 

Kira’s voice snapped him out of his musings.

“I allowed my hatred for Cardassians to blind me; it was just easier that way. With creeps like Dukat around, suspicion was omnipresent.”

“It’s perfectly understandable, Nerys. Anyone would feel the same in your place.”

“I know that. I also know I had good reason to mistrust Garak, what with him being a former Obsidian Order operative, but that should be no excuse. I had no way of knowing it then, but he showed himself a capable and mostly honorable man, which is more than I could ever admit to anyone. If you tell him that, I’ll put you on waste disposal duty for a month!”

Her threat made him laugh and he raised his hands in surrender.

“I’ll be good! I promise!”

“You’d better,” Her threatening face smoothed into a serious expression. “I never bothered to see things from his perspective, Julian.”

He merely nodded. He was guilty of much the same. 

“I know what you mean…” He trailed off. “He was always cold on the station, you know? And the lights were too bright for his eyes.”

“I used to take pleasure in any Cardassian’s discomfort, but after Tekeny and Ziyal… I just can’t. I had to make peace with the realization that I should direct my anger at the Cardassian government or Central Command and not every unsuspecting civilian out there who was unfortunate enough to be born with ridges and gray skin…” With a weary exhale, she closed her eyes and massaged her forehead. 

Julian wanted to make her understand Garak better. He wasn’t sure what that was supposed to accomplish, but felt the impulse keenly nonetheless.

“He’s lost so much weight, it’s frightening. I almost didn’t recognize him at first.”

_ That’s a lie, Julian.  _

Kira looked at him, her face a somber mask. 

Julian pressed on.

“But he seems… happy. Exhausted, yes, but also more… genuine. I knew he missed Cardassia, but I never could have guessed just how much.”

“Perhaps I should come visit when I get the time.” Kira said, lost in thought.

Julian beamed at her.

“I think he’d love that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah. On a scale from 1 to 10, how pissed off do you think Ezri is? Or worried?
> 
> I like the idea of Kira learning not to hate all Cardassians. The Occupation left horrible scars on Bajor, but I'd like to believe there's hope.


	36. Epiphanies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian realizes something about Tain and the nature of lies.
> 
> It doesn't stop there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rather... poetic towards the end.

It was rather late when he got home. The day was already waning and the light was spilling from the shed, which meant Garak was already there. With a sudden spring in his step, Julian stepped in.

“Hello, my dear.” Elim greeted warmly and Julian gave him a bright grin in response.

“Always hard at work, I see.” Julian observed as he approached the table.

Garak offered a small huff.

“Designing your suit barely qualifies as work.”

“Really?” Julian bubbled with excitement. “Can I see?”

Elim smiled slyly and stated:

“That would ruin the surprise, and of the two of us, you’re the only one who appreciates those, so I felt I should indulge you.”

Julian laughed.

“You appreciated my surprise, Elim! Don’t pretend you didn’t!”

“I’ve had too few of those in my life, so you will excuse my deeply ingrained skepticism.”

That was true. Nowadays, Julian thought Garak’s life had been just a series of unfortunate events. Only the man’s skills and knowledge enabled him to live this long. A less capable individual would have been dead ten times over by now. And wasn’t that the crux of everything? The man was raised on lies. He didn’t even know who his father was until well after his indoctrination was complete. If he thought about it, even Tain’s actions, as atrocious as they were, made a twisted sort of sense. As the Head of the Obsidian Order, he must have had many powerful enemies, those who would have liked nothing better than to harm him through those he was closest to. Since he obviously never married (as far as Julian knew), if anyone ever found out he had a lover or an illegitimate child, they would have made prime targets for getting back at Tain. 

In a way, the only thing standing between Mila’s and Elim’s certain death was a complex web of lies. 

_ No, this is just my housekeeper with her husband and son. They are bland and boring service class people. They are beneath me, just servants, nothing more.  _

Perhaps the lies weren’t just a web, but a safety net as well. After all, if nobody knew you had a secret child, nobody could harm him. Julian used to think this was simply Tain’s selfishness, but what if there was more to it? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just kill them? The sadist clearly had no compunction ordering his enemies’ deaths on a daily basis. If he wanted to be rid of his offspring, he could have foisted him off on an orphanage and been done with it.

And yet, not only had he kept the mother of his child close, working for him until he retired, he orchestrated (somehow) for the world to think she and her brother were a married couple with a son. He gave Elim a family, such as it was, and kept him close. Perhaps the way he molded his son was also for Garak’s wellbeing. Sure, working in the Obsidian Order placed Elim in constant danger, but he was highly trained, extremely competent and more than able to take care of himself. No matter what else could be said for Tain, he made sure his son could navigate as well as survive the dangerous waters of Cardassian society. 

The lies, viewed this way, could be considered a gift. Perhaps the most important gift a father could give to his son. 

_ “Elim, promise me one thing… Don’t die here. Escape. Live.” _

There was something between the lines, Julian could see it now.

_“I should have killed your mother before you were born. You have always been a weakness I can't afford.“_

Yet he hadn't. Tain kept her safe and nobody ever found out about Mila. Either that, or nobody lived long enough to manage to harm her.

_ “So you've told me, many times.” _

Elim knew and he didn’t care. 

_“I was very proud of you that day. “_

Julian's memory was jogged and he was astonished when he realized this wasn't the only time Tain's parting words were significant. 

_ ”I can see that Garak hasn't changed a bit. Never tells the truth when a lie will do. That man has a rare gift for obfuscation. Doctor, Elim is Garak's first name. Now run along home. And please, tell Garak that I miss him. “ _

You don’t end a conversation with a lie. Why would you? Endings are important. They stick with you, just like opening lines of a novel do. Tain had spun an elaborate lie about wanting Garak to suffer alone and despised, and there might have been some truth to that – he certainly wanted his son punished, but in retrospect, the lengths he went to seemed too excessive – they didn’t match his supposed intent at all. Why save his disgraced son by sending him away from all of his enemies, and then extend protection by making sure there were explicit orders not to get rid of him, which even Dukat was forced to obey? And later, why allow a random human doctor unmolested entry into Cardassian space? Why give away information about a highly classified piece of technology to an enemy officer?

When he thought about it now, Tain would have gotten in serious trouble if that ever came to light, after all, what the man did by divulging such sensitive information was essentially treason. 

Former Head of the Obsidian Order betraying state secrets to save a disgraced operative? 

_ No. _

To save his only son, his only weakness, however…

“_And please, tell Garak that I miss him. “_

In the end, it seemed Enabran and Elim shared more than a life of secrets and lies. 

There was common ground, brittle and unexplored.

_ Sentimentality _ .

“Research giving you trouble?” Garak enquired from his stool.

“Huh?” Julian startled. “Uh, no. Sorry! I was miles away…”

“Anything you’d like to share?” Elim looked at him in mischievous curiosity.

“This will sound strange…But… I think Tain actually loved you.”

Garak’s eyes went wide with genuine emotion. There may have as well been a neon sign on his forehead, saying: “What brought this on, Doctor?”

“Why would you even be thinking about Enabran Tain, my dear?”

Julian rubbed the nape of his neck as he tried to formulate a response. 

“You know my mind can run, well… Multiple threads of thought at the same time?”

“It usually serves you well, yes.”

Julian’s lips formed an uncertain little smile which disappeared as fast as it formed. 

“Nowadays, I use it to… re-contextualize certain concepts I used to take for granted.”

“I see.” Garak said simply. 

“I used to view life in simple terms, Elim. You know that. Things were black or white, good or evil, nice or unpleasant. Such views served me well until I reached the first real hurdle life threw at me.”

Elim put down his work and gave him his full attention. It was unnerving, yet also comforting. There it was, proof of his fallacies – life was never simple. How could he feel uncomfortable and safe at the same time? It was such a contradiction, but it existed simultaneously, like some strange, low-level paradox. 

“I thought that way until I met a plain and simple tailor.” He finished, feeling strangely light. 

A long look passed between them, charged with nearly eight years of history and meaning. It felt more like eighty. An entire universe was opening up before his eyes, and he felt like a science vessel hurtling through space at previously unimaginable warp speed, parting subspace gently like one would open sheer, gauzy curtains to let in the first light of a shy dawn. 

Elim’s face was open, yet strangely blank. Julian remembered another passage from the memoirs he received.

_ “His eyes had a depth and eloquence that told me everything I wanted to know. How ironic that my lust for conversation was satisfied by someone who rarely spoke.” _

Perhaps that lust for conversation was nothing more than an inelegant, inefficient form of expression creatures like them used to make themselves understood. They were all just blind, weak and starving children, wandering around in the perpetual darkness with desperately open arms, hoping for a single brush of fingers to ease their journey through oblivion. 

Elim rose from his chair, never breaking eye-contact and Julian observed him, unwilling to miss a single nuance of expression. 

Julian’s body was no longer his own. 

He floated above the surface of his skin, tendrils of vaporous light extending, grasping, reaching outside himself for something solid and real. It was alien and strange, yet he felt unbothered by it. The look in his dearest friend’s eyes flowed into him like a cold mountain stream. His cracks filled with glacially cool water and he felt his mind expanding into a never-ending green plain with swaying, heavy grasses undulating across the vast expanse like a vibrant ocean teeming with color and life.

The warm touch of sun caressed his skin and he closed his eyes to drink it in. He was no longer Jules, the little broken boy; nor was he Julian, an upgraded, desecrated, empty chassis moving through the world’s greater mysteries thoughtless and unaware. Perhaps this was the secret space where his soul dwelled – this rolling meadow extending for thousands of leagues, never-ending and unbroken by sentient life’s violations. 

Julian wanted to manifest this plain on Cardassia. He wished to see its deserts flourish, its oceans clear, its skies crystalline and resplendent with millions of glittering stars. In his mind, he could already feel the kiss of that warm, yet subdued sun against his lips. He sighed in bliss and surrendered to its warmth. 

The heat was so real against his skin he could almost feel it like the softest of touches. As he opened his eyes to share it with Elim, he was greeted by a look he couldn’t name, and a closeness he couldn’t explain. 

Julian had no heartbeat anymore. He couldn’t feel it. Instead, he’d become solid ground, warm and pliant. 

_ I want to grow _ .

The gardener stood before him, patient and soft. Then, ever so slowly, his hands buried into the barren soil and breathed in life where none had existed before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... What the hell happened there? Anyone like to take a guess?


	37. Emergencies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Garak's little moment is interrupted by bad news. They rush to deal with the emergency.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather large chapter.
> 
> It will be painful, but the payoff in two chapters is nice. :)

Julian observed in silence.

Timeless.

Elim stood before him and watched.

Immobile.

Julian felt like he was the inside of a star – always burning.

What was it between them now, in this new understanding?

Their palms reached for one another, in Julian's case almost unconsciously. On both sides, mirrored, connected – complete. Just as his fingers started curling around Elim's, he picked up frantic footsteps from the outside. His head snapped towards the door and his companion was immediately on alert, disentangling them and stepping in front of Julian. 

“-lim! Elim!”

Garak’s posture relaxed a fraction when he realized whose voice it was he was hearing. 

Parmak burst through the door, breathless and grave. 

“Was there another riot?” When Parmak made a dismissive hand gesture, Garak enquired further. “Don’t tell me someone managed to get to Ghemor?”

“No.” Kelas wheezed. 

It was serious enough for Parmak to be running here from far away, judging by his respiratory distress. 

“They found one of your orphans. Stabbed.” The immediacy in that tone, wrenched something open painfully in Julian’s being. 

“Dead?” Garak asked, his voice a mixture of ice and fire. 

“No, he’s at my hospital in the hands of a good surgeon. They’re fighting for his life.”

“Why have you walked here?”

“There were no skimmers.” Parmak said gravely, still gasping for breath.

“You could have asked Alon-“

“I said there were no skimmers!” The Cardassian doctor nearly growled. 

Garak ignored the man’s uncharacteristic outburst and set into motion immediately. Procuring a disruptor from one of his many boxes, he set about assembling a small bag of odds and ends. Julian didn’t fully grasp why, but Garak never did anything without good reason, so he grabbed his own work bag and slung it over his shoulder. 

After securing his door, Garak and Parmak set out. Despite his haste and obvious worry, Elim didn’t rush ahead faster than Kelas could keep up. 

“_Your_ orphans, Elim?” Julian chanced a question. 

Garak sighed and offered a brief explanation.

“Many children lost their families in the Fire. Some had always been orphans. They were never treated well in our society. When I saw roving groups of them, scavenging around the ruins…”

Parmak stepped in. “They would get hurt all the time. We lost many to cave-ins, suffocation… Elim took some of them under his wing and taught them how to stay safer.”

“Do we know why it happened?” Elim asked with a half-worried, half-murderous look in his eyes. 

“His little sister ran to our hospital, like we taught her to. She only told me he was trying to barter with someone. You know how he is, Elim. Mouthy – headstrong…”

“Wait, who got stabbed?” Julian asked in confusion. 

Both men said almost in unison: “Rekat.”

Parmak’s look at Elim confirmed it. 

“What?” Julian cried out. “I know him! He was my guide!”

Both men looked at him wide-eyed. 

“He took your advice, Elim…”

“If it got him stabbed-“ 

Parmak forestalled any further self-blame and wrapped his arm around the tailor’s waist. It looked like the most natural thing in the world. 

Of course Elim would take comfort from his lover. 

Julian frowned. This was no time for such irrelevant thoughts. 

They had to get to the hospital in Barvonok where Parmak worked. As a doctor, Julian had hoped he would get the chance to see it, but these circumstances were definitely not what he had in mind. His mind raced to the Cardassian child he had the good fortune to meet. Rekat had managed to get him to Elim safely, after all, and now… the boy was lying on some operating table, likely struggling to cling to life.

“Garak…” Julian addressed him softly, “Rekat is a tenacious little boy. If Doctor Parmak has faith in these surgeons, everything should be fine.”

“Your platitudes are unnecessary, Doctor. We shall see for ourselves when we arrive there. May I suggest we pick up the pace?”

The brush-off was sudden and jarring, leaving Julian unbalanced. 

Still, there was nothing he could do at the moment but get there as fast as possible. 

They jogged and ran most of the way, only slowing to allow Kelas to catch his breath, but never stopping. It was 18 minutes and 27 seconds later they came to a stop before a sprawling medical complex. The entire left wing of the building was collapsed, and the majority of the central area as well, but the right wing was mostly intact. Some of its top floor was flattened, but the rest looked fine, at least on the outside. 

Parmak walked briskly to what was once one of the side entrances and pressed a small device against the door panel, which opened the door for them. 

“I’m bypassing the main reception, Elim.”

“I know.”

“Why?” Julian asked.

“Because they wouldn’t let me see him otherwise. We’re not kin.” Garak said uncharacteristically bitterly.

“But… that’s needlessly cruel! Can’t a person’s friends visit?” Julian was aghast by such callousness.

“No. Only family. Of course, I could lie, but that would needlessly complicate matters.”

“Which is why I am using my authority to get you through. Bashir is a doctor, I can always invent some excuse to justify his presence. Now, follow me. He’s upstairs, on level two.”

“Weren’t the operating rooms in the basement levels?” Garak asked.

“Not since the power outages. Our back-up systems are shot and even we cannot operate in complete darkness.”

That made sense. In the daytime, the few windows on the upper floors would be a source of much-needed illumination. That would be insufficient for his human eyes, but it wouldn’t be a problem for a Cardassian. They walked briskly up the stairs and Julian was starting to get worried about Kelas, who was now openly wheezing. Judging by the streaks of white in his hair, the man was slightly older than Elim. He looked fit enough, but he probably lacked stamina. Out of all of them, Elim was the only one rigorously trained for prolonged bouts of strenuous physical activity, despite not being on active duty in nigh a decade. Julian was young enough to not mind overly much, but his muscles were starting to protest. 

“Have they at least allowed Phela inside?”

“I presented her as a sister, she should be waiting just outside the operating ward.”

“What do you mean by that, is she not his real kin?”

Garak shot him an annoyed look, almost as if he was challenging Julian’s intelligence. 

“Oh…” He had to think. Garak’s judging look was unbearable. “They aren’t blood related, but they… bonded?” Julian guessed.

Parmak sighed sadly.

“The children emulate the Cardassian ideal. They form their own little families and are fiercely loyal to them.”

“That’s so sad…” Julian observed. 

“Can we save this philosophical debate for later?” Garak snapped.

Parmak and Julian exchanged a brief look. It was no more than an acknowledgment. 

Stay quiet. 

Let him process.

Julian obeyed the unspoken suggestion and followed the resolute Cardassians up the last flight of stairs. Parmak breezed past a few nurses like a man on a mission and halted in front of a pair of doors. He activated a console next to them and an image flickered to life on the screen. 

“Bashir, come here.” Kelas beckoned without taking his eyes off the screen.

Amazed, Julian realized he was watching the surgery from above, and Parmak was currently fiddling with some settings to zoom in.The audio was a bit garbled, but it came through well enough for his Universal Translator to pick up.

“Clamp it.”

This was good. They boy was obviously still alive.

“We’ll need another transfusion.”

“We cannot waste any more on the boy.” Said the male doctor.

“It would be pointless to let him die now!” One of the female nurses said mutinously. 

“We won’t let him die,” A tired female voice said. It was the surgeon. “Now shut up and let me work.”

“She’s dead on her feet,” Julian observed. “She might make a mistake.”

“We have no choice, Bashir. She’s the only one willing to invest her time in this.”

That was terrible, Julian thought.

“Use mine.” Garak stated firmly. It took Julian a moment to connect the dots.

Parmak sighed.

“Your blood types don’t match, Elim…”

“Then use a separator!” The blazing anger in his eyes was fearsome and protective. 

“If there’s another blackout-“

“You will improvise.” Garak said imperiously, in a voice that implied he wouldn’t accept no for an answer.

“You… are too stubborn, Elim.” The look in Parmak’s eyes was one of capitulation. “Very well.”

After punching in a few commands, Parmak spoke: 

“Parmak to Hejod; I have a volunteer for the transfusion, but we will need to use a separator.”

The female surgeon responded with a relieved exhale.

“Sweet rain, Kelas! Bring the donor in.”

Realizing he was unlikely to be admitted into the room along with them, Julian reached for Garak’s elbow, offering a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ll be right here, watching. I promise.”

Garak’s thunderous expression softened marginally and he nodded slightly, then fell into step next to Parmak and they both disappeared behind the double doors. Julian glued himself to the console, needing to take in every detail. He watched with mounting worry as Kelas lay Garak on what looked like a reclining chair and hooked him into the machine. It reminded him of one of those ancient dialysis machines, except less bulky. He observed the way Parmak smoothed Garak’s hair and was reminded again of Zeyem’s almost identical gesture during their first operation together. Did it have any special meaning?

Watching the cord connecting the man to the child, Julian was struck with two emotions of opposing, yet equal strength – admiration for the ease with which Elim would offer his life’s blood for a little boy Cardassian society would rather forget about, and an almost crippling fear for the man’s safety. 

Garak was strong and agile for his age, but he was also nowhere near peak physical condition. He was still borderline dehydrated and malnourished – just over a week of rations couldn’t compensate for months of deprivation. This would harm him and compromise his immune system, but Julian understood the reasoning all too well.The feeling of helping to save someone’s life held no equal, and he supposed Elim had had enough of harming people. 

If he thought about it, his Cardassian friend had always had a bit of a soft spot for orphans. With his own history of narrowly avoiding their fate, Julian supposed it was only natural to feel that way. He used to think Garak could be quite heartless, but the closer he got to the man, the more he realized it was just one of the many masks the tailor employed. 

_ Just another lie to keep him safe… _

The double doors swung open and a little girl of perhaps five walked out. 

“Are you Bas’shear?”

He blinked and replied in affirmative despite the mangling of his name.

“You must be Phela?” 

She observed him mutely and replied nothing. 

“I met your brother, Rekat.” Julian said kindly. “He was my guide.”

That provoked a response. Pride lit up in her eyes as she said assertively:

“He’s a very good guide!”

Julian graciously agreed.

“Yes, he got me to my destination safely.”

“The Tailor said you were his friend and that I should keep an eye on you.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility for a little lady like you.” Julian attempted to make her smile.

“Not a lady.”

_ Oops _ . Perhaps that was a sore spot. 

“I didn’t know we could be friends with _others_.”

“What others?” Julian asked, confused by her statement.

“People like you.” She dead-panned. “Aliens.”

Julian had no idea what to say to that.

“Are you really a friend of The Tailor?” She asked suspiciously, clearly doubting his qualifications.

“Yes, Phela. We are good friends.”

She seemed to scrutinize him and then shrugged. He recognized the gesture immediately and couldn’t help but smile. 

“Rekat shrugs the same way you do.” He smiled.

She pursed her lips and stared at him like one would at a curiously disgusting bug one was about to dissect. 

“The Tailor said I could see Rekat on the screen. I wanna see.”

Julian noticed immediately that she wouldn’t be able to reach the console and he saw no chairs nearby she could stand on.

“I would have to pick you up and hold you so you could see. Is that ok? Do I have your permission to do that?”

She looked at him blankly and repeated.

“I wanna see brother.”

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he gently reached for her and picked her up, settling her against his hip. Instinctively, she put her arms around his neck and peered at the little screen unblinkingly. 

“Do you see that tube connecting your brother and Eli-, uh the tailor?”

“Yes.”

“That’s blood Rekat needs to survive his surgery.”

“The Tailor’s… blood?”

“Yes, Phela. He is giving his blood for your brother.”

The stern little girl started sniffling. Julian cursed himself for opening his mouth. He now had an armful of an increasingly loud and crying Cardassian child.

Parmak was currently monitoring Elim’s vitals and Julian attempted to focus on the tiny visualization, but didn’t want to zoom in too far and lose Rekat’s image. 

“It’s not scary, Phela. Rekat is strong. He will survive.”

That female surgeon, Doctor Hejod, was making every effort to save the poor child. Rekat looked so tiny on that operating table.

“I’m not scared!” The girl protested stubbornly.

Julian worried for the boy. He was also concerned about Hejod. But most of all, there was an insidious and pervasive feeling of dread for Elim’s safety. The longer this went on, the chances of him remaining in this hospital increased. And in such poor conditions… It was common for people to contract something else and perish for the most banal reasons. 

He wouldn’t allow it. If it came to that, he would take Elim to Coranum, to the Research Center. Zeyem would allow it. 

Still, the girl in his arms was nearly wailing now and Julian was running out of ideas how to soothe her.

“Why are you crying, Phela?”

“The Tailor… he is giving his blood…”

“It’s a perfectly safe procedure, sweetie.”

“No…” She sniffled. “He’s not our family, but he is giving blood…”

“Is that rare? Giving your blood for somebody other than family?”

Parmak’s gentle voice interjected. 

“Transfusions are only common among family members, and only in emergencies. We can synthesize blood just fine, but our reserves are too low, so we’ve been forced to supplement.”

Huh. Julian didn’t even notice Parmak leave the operating room. 

“Donating blood to a child would usually be a father’s job.”

Julian looked at the sobbing child with sympathy and understanding. So that’s what this was about… Transfusion was a deeply symbolic gesture. What humans would do for nearly anyone in an emergency, Cardassians reserved solely for their closest family members. Elim’s gesture was essentially unheard of and as such touched the poor girl. Would she want to be part of Elim’s family? Would Rekat?

Could single Cardassians even adopt? How did adoption even work here?

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know much of anything, just like Elim said years ago. 

“Are there adoptions on Cardassia?” Julian asked.

The girl fell silent and sniffled every now and then. 

“Rarely.” Parmak said sadly. “If an extremely talented child is found, a childless couple can petition for adoption.In rare cases when a family is left without an heir, even including nephews and cousins twice removed, the option exists. Unfortunately, only the most promising children get chosen. The rest are put through basic education and then reassigned as the cheapest labor available. It’s a travesty.”

“Cardassia is changing, though? Why not do something about it? Surely Ghemor’s voice carries some weight.”

“Elim and I are pushing for it, Doctor, believe me. But it’s never high on the list. Cardassians are so used to the non- status of orphans that they don’t even spare them much thought. Perhaps now, with old families wiped out, and high-profile orphans cropping up all over, the matter will be given more serious thought.”

“Is The Tailor Rekat’s Father now?” The little girl asked hopefully, her pretty brown eyes filling with tears and Julian’s heart broke for her. “Do you think he would give me blood too? A little drop! Just enough to…”

Julian swallowed and held her tighter. He looked at Parmak pleadingly, hoping the man would have the information he lacked. 

“There is a story told among orphans, Bashir, a tale of a strong man or woman, who comes and saves them. Actual adoptions, those precious few that do come through, include a formal ritual of mixing the parent’s blood with the child’s. To them, this would be the equivalent of a dream come true. Sadly, a real adoption needs paperwork, reviews of suitability, and is a long and arduous process which cannot be skipped. At least not yet.”

“So… The Tailor is not… Rekat’s Father now?”

“No, my dear.” Parmak said softly, pressing a kiss to her chufa. “They wouldn’t let him, not yet.”

“Maybe one day?” She asked so full of hope, Julian’s chin wobbled.

“Maybe one day.” Kelas smiled wistfully, clearly doubting such a positive outcome. 

“Do you need to be married to be able to adopt?” Julian asked.

“Yes, usually. There have been exceptions in the past, but they are uncommon. Now that I think about it, this could be a perfect opportunity for unattached or widowed Cardassians to adopt a child that could succeed them in their line of work… That is an option many would find both pragmatic and appealing in these circumstances.”

Julian nodded. 

“That way everybody wins…” He murmured. 

“We want to do the right thing, Doctor Bashir. We just need a chance. With a lot of our databases down, this chaos might actually be working in our favor. I have seen people shelter children and keep them off the streets in the past few months. These arrangements may not be official, but they are happening more and more often. This gives us hope.”

“The war was a terrible thing,” Julian agreed. “But there’s a chance for something good to come out of all this suffering.”

“In that name, we move forward.” Parmak inclined his head politely.

“Shouldn’t you be in there, keeping an eye on Elim?” Julian asked, unnerved by the man’s stillness on the screen. 

“He sent me away.” Parmak said with a hint of sadness in his voice. “He despises my fretting.”

“If he said that, he was lying.” Julian said, confident in his assessment. “Garak would never admit to any weakness or vulnerability, but he appreciates when someone takes care of him. He might never say it, but kindness is not something he is capable of forgetting. Trust me on that.”

Parmak looked at him searchingly and took him in with a thoughtful expression. 

“His irritation was genuine.” The Cardassian doctor offered.

“Likely it was, but who was it directed at?” Julian asked, his mind working the problem like a dog worried a bone. “The person who stabbed the boy? Himself for the way his body is betraying him? Or something else entirely I didn’t take into account?”

Parmak blinked slowly, pondering the implications of Julian’s words. A complex emotion manifested on the man’s gentle face and a new determination blazed in his eyes.

“You may be right, Bashir. I believe I will go back there. In the state he is now, the worst he can do to me is spew some vitriol.” Parmak bowed at him minutely as if Julian had done him some great favor and said solemly: “Thank you for the advice, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome.” Julian said peaceably, but as soon as the man turned, his face fell.

Why was he giving advice to Garak’s lover? Shouldn’t Parmak know Elim better than anyone at this point? The man shouldn’t need Julian’s input at all. 

Inhaling deeply, Julian focused on Hejod’s movements and the surgery itself. He could vaguely understand what was going on – whatever had caused the wounds had perforated a bile sack, which caused mayhem in the boy’s abdominal cavity. He tried visualizing it from a different angle, the surgeon’s angle, but his peripheral vision caught movement and his focus was torn from the place he was supposed to be watching onto the two men in the background. Parmak was gently touching Elim’s forehead, brushing the ridges on his forehead with an upward motion. The gesture looked soothing and intimate, and for once, Elim wasn’t protesting and allowed Kelas to proceed.

Julian hated the paleness and the tiredness on that familiar face. Elim’s lids seemed heavy and moved slowly, and Julian could feel his body releasing adrenaline without his say-so. He was stuck here, separated from the operation, reduced to a passive observer; clutching the little Cardassian girl the way he used to cling to Kukalaka when he was younger, seeking refuge in something small and warm. 

More than anything, he wanted to be in there, in Hejod’s place, saving the boy as fast as his augmented brain and hand-to-eye coordination allowed, just so he could see that grotesque crimson ribbon clear out into its imminently more acceptable state of transparency. 

He watched helplessly as Garak’s motions dulled, and felt his facial muscles contorting in horror as Elim halted Parmak’s hand when the doctor wanted to stop the transfer.

The voices barely came through, but his superior hearing caught them.

“Elim, you have to stop. They have enough.”

The raspy reply held all of Garak’s conviction, but none of his strength.

“We stop when the surgery is over and not a moment sooner.”

“Elim, don’t do this!” Parmak pleaded and Julian swore he could hear the added _“To me”_ At the end of the man’s sentence. “I am your doctor now and I am warning you, much further and we will risk losing you too.”

“You wouldn’t let that happen, Kelas. I have every faith in you.”

Julian nearly gasped at the cruelty of that blatant manipulation which even Parmak seemed to sense viscerally.

“Elim, please… Be reasonable. Cardassia needs you.”

_ I need you. _ That’s what those words meant.

“My life – my decision. I shall give of myself however I see fit, now… If you dare stop the transfer…”

The threat seemed genuine, but Parmak didn’t seem to care. 

“Hejod, how much longer?” He asked in a harried tone which contained all of his anxiety. 

“If I had someone as _competent_ as myself assisting me,” She said emphatically, clearly making a dig at the other male doctor in the room, “I would be done in ten metrics. This way, it might take a full time unit. I don’t know!”

Desperation was evident on Parmak’s face and Julian felt its twin roiling in his gut. 

_ I could do it. I know I could. I could save them both. _

Julian felt a kind of panic he had almost forgotten he could experience. It was immediate, consuming and impossible to fight.

“We have a human doctor who’s been performing surgeries at the Research Center in Coranum for the past week and a half. He could be here, in scrubs, in less than a minute.”

“Do you vouch for this human, Kelas?” She asked him in a voice as sharp as a scalpel. 

“I do, and so does Head Zeyem.”

At that, Hejod’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Why isn’t he here already?” She cried out. “Get to it!”

Parmak ran out the room like a pack of wild targs was on his tail, and Julian heard the male doctor protesting:

“This is against the regulations, Hejod. We can’t be compromising our facility and this procedure by bringing in an unknown element, a human no less-“

“If it were up to you, you would have left this child to die, Merur. You have no right to speak on the matter.”

“He’s but an orphan! How is he of benefit to Cardassia?”

At this, the female surgeon started shaking in rage. 

“Well over a billion dead on Prime alone, many of them our youth – our future, and you dare skin scales over saving a boy dying in front of our very eyes! You disgust me! Get out of this room and make yourself useful kissing some gul’s ass!”

At his hesitation, she thundered:

“Out!”

He didn’t get the chance to see more, because Parmak came bursting through the doors with familiar drab attire trailing after him like a morbid flag. 

“Phela, I have to go.” Julian put her down and pet her cheek affectionately. 

Her eyes were wide and frightened, but she mustered a solemn expression and said:

“Help Rekat. I will wait.”

“No,” Parmak said. “I’ll take you in, Phela. I don’t care.”

“Won’t you get in trouble for that?” Julian asked and in that moment, a furious Merur sped past them, sparing Julian a particularly affronted glare of revulsion and disappeared down the corridor in furious silence. 

“Now that Merur is gone, I doubt it.”

Julian grabbed the scrubs and ran into the operating ward, listening to Parmak’s instructions on where to go. He entered a small antechamber and donned the operating garb, grabbed a pair of his gloves from the kit and startled as Parmak slicked his hair back with some kind of oily substance which seemed to harden slightly.

“No shedding during medical procedures. We have no head-gear, unlike humans. Apologies for the abruptness, but we have no time.”

“It’s fine.” Julian uttered dismissively and pushed the door open.

“Hejod, this is Bashir.” Parmak introduced.

She barely spared him a glance, and addressed a nurse:

“Eijal, increase the lights by 40%.”

The female nurse complied and Julian sighed in relief. That would make his job significantly easier. He strode purposefully to the side of the table opposite Hejod and took a better look into the abdominal cavity. His mind went into overdrive and he picked up his medkit, taking out the necessary tools.

“I’m more familiar with these, it’ll go faster. I will take care of the vascular damage, and you focus on the ruptured organs.”

“Agreed.” Hejod acknowledged, and Julian immersed himself in his work, trying valiantly not to look at the crimson ribbon, dangling between his patient and his dear friend. 

If he looked, he was lost.

He couldn’t afford it.

So he stared into the boy’s open stomach and did his job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels everywhere!
> 
> I wonder if I'm losing readers due to the excruciating slow burn? I edited my tags somewhat, so you know you're not reading in vain!
> 
> Be patient with poor Julian. He will understand what he's feeling eventually, and when he does, you know how passionate he gets! 
> 
> In the meantime, I shall leave you to his suffering...


	38. Out Of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Hejod are fighting for Rekat's life. 
> 
> The boy isn't the only one whose life is in danger.
> 
> Julian is struggling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continues where the last chapter left off.

Hejod had miscalculated, and so had Julian. Her estimation had been ten metrics, but after that mark passed, they were still not done. 

A nurse would step in every minute or so to wipe his sweaty brow, but he didn’t even have the time or the mental capacity to thank them, because all of his focus was on the delicate procedure he was assisting with. They were actually doing several different surgeries at once, and he kept track of Hejod’s movements so he could support her efforts by repairing the blood vessels leading into the afflicted area, then once she was done, fix them further down the line. 

Despite his mind’s unswerving attention to the task at hand, there was a warring and entirely independent sensation pulling at him like a hungry tide lapping at a sandy shore. An insidious mirage flickered in his peripheral vision, more frightening than any nightmare. Parmak was bustling around, administering something to Elim, who was now lying entirely immobile on the chair.

That awful lack of movement from one, and excessive movement from the other, stirred a most unpleasant kind of dichotomy Julian could feel keenly in his body.

This was wrong. Elim was only ever still if he was stalking his prey, the way a good predator was supposed to. His was a stillness imbued with purpose and a kind of enviable patience Julian could never hope to emulate. The lack of movement now signaled something entirely opposite – a lack of vigor and will, yet purpose remained. 

Purpose was all that was left.

_ No matter the cost, his life for Rekat’s. _

Julian felt frustrated and afraid, but he didn't allow it to influence the movements of his hands. 

Every second longer was squandering Elim's gift. 

Every drop that spilled out of Rekat was a horrifying waste.

_ Concentrate! Don't look! _

His vision blurred, but he blinked it away.

_ You don't need Kukalaka. You are not Jules. You are Julian. You can do this. _

_ So do it. _

More determined than ever, he re-doubled his efforts and worked as fast as his instruments allowed. 

_ 5 more seconds; then move on. _

“Hejod, stop!” He cried out, unnecessarily harshly. “Siphon that blood off, there’s another tear in here.”

“Noted.” She acknowledged. “Eijal!”

“Yes, ma’am.” The nurse obeyed swiftly, and Julian got back to work.

Parmak’s frantic movements in the background only spurred him on. 

“Hejod, I need a measure of synth-blood for Elim, or we’ll lose him too!”

Julian’s heart stopped.

His hands didn’t.

“Unplug him, now!” She commanded without taking her eyes from her task. “Eijal, authorize a dose.”

“Your authentication code or Merur’s?”

“His. I’m docking his pay for the stunt he pulled in here earlier. If he wasn’t a passably decent doctor, I’d have him fired. We’ll figure the shortage out later.”

The nurse didn’t bother with the reply and unlocked a container in the corner, pulled out the stasis-kept unit of blood and ran to Parmak’s side. 

Julian was almost done. 

“Elim, no!” Parmak cried out, but Julian had no time to look, no time to hear; he had to fix, mend -faster.

_ Faster! _

But hear he did, because a stubborn part of him couldn’t help but pay attention. 

The Cardassian equivalent of a flatline hummed in the air.

_ Ignore it.  _

He had to. 

There was a job to do. 

The faster he was done here, the better for Elim. 

Julian felt dizzy and his knees were weak, but he locked them stubbornly and cursed himself for his weakness. 

_ Be Cardassian. Compartmentalize. _

With a lump in his throat and a stinging in his eyes, he shut the world out. 

It could wait. 

The world narrowed to the view in front of him and everything else faded away.

Hejod’s hands wove between his and there was nothing left in the entire universe, nothing but the whirr of their instruments and gentle prodding of their fingers. 

Another blood vessel mended. 

Tuck.

Rearrange.

_ Regenerate. _

Reattach muscle.

Halt.

Wait for Hejod.

_ Resume. _

37 seconds to go.

Double-check.

Scan.

Test.

No more hemorrhaging. 

_ 12.6 seconds. _

The awful slowness of his dermal regenerator.

Infuriating.

Unnacceptable .

4.3 seconds left.

“Come on…” Julian murmured in frustration.

Done.

“Good job, Doctor Bashir.” Hejod said tiredly.

Julian barely heard it.

In the very next moment, he was moving - swiftly, gracelessly, desperately to a new point in the room.

He saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing.

There was none of that endless stream of data flooding his brain.

Nothing on the temperature or the atmospheric pressure in the room.

No feeling in his limbs, only their blind obeisance. 

Only an unmoving, gray face lolling to the right, as if still looking at the boy whose surgery was a success, but seeing only darkness, as his eyes were closed.

“Elim!” Someone cried as the world was plunged into darkness. 

_ Not now… Not after everything… _

The world was trembling under his feet.

An earthquake.

Had to be.

“Bashir, come to your senses!”

A whimper greeted him and he wondered why it sounded familiar.

“Elim is alive, he will be fine, he’s just unconscious!”

Those words pierced the haze surrounding him and he shook off the barriers in his mind which separated his job from his private life and when he did, his knees buckled. Parmak held him up and Julian felt all strength leave him.

_ Safe. _ _ _

_ Alive. _

He collapsed in Kelas’s arms, gasping in relief. 

He had succeeded.

It was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was crying as I wrote these last two chapters. Julian's fear and blind panic was overwhelming.
> 
> The shock he receives here will echo down the line...


	39. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian stands vigil by Elim's bed for the night. He ponders Tolan's words about the ancient inhabitants of Cardassia - before the great climatic catastrophe changed everything. He gets a very ambitious idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may have also been called "Restoration", but it matters little. 
> 
> Just food for thought.

It was well after midnight and Garak was still unconscious. 

Julian knew there was no real cause for alarm, not anymore, but watching the man sleep not of his own volition left him feeling unsettled.

They had carried him to a room in the convalescence ward. Rekat was still in the ICU, but seemed stable. Kelas had taken Phela to his office and let the girl sleep on his makeshift cot. She was worn out completely, the poor child.

Julian wondered if Parmak was running some kind of interference, because none of the other staff came to toss him out. He was clearly not Garak's family, but nobody said a word. He got some shifty looks, but he was left unmolested. 

He held Elim's hand and took his pulse. 

It was steady.

All 39 times he'd measured it. 

Elim was fine, he knew that intellectually. They had given him an immune-booster to forestall any complications and had him on a saline drip, but his tests checked out. He was malnourished, but otherwise remarkably healthy. 

His little stunt would have killed a lesser man. 

Though, to be honest…

A lesser man never would have offered his blood for a Cardassian orphan. 

_ Elim _ _ … You crazy bastard. _

A part of Julian was mad and worried, but there was a definite presence of an emotion that was winning out slowly. 

Pride.

This was proof that Elim had come a long way. From a man whose motivations you could never discern, he had become someone who you could depend on, someone that could surprise you with their selflessness.

But was it selflessness, truly? Garak was as determined as if he was paying some heavy debt. Was it the conviction of a sinner desperate to repent, or the inability to let even one person he knew perish? It could be that he was simply tired of losing people he cared about; after all, Garak never had many of those. Even before his exile, the only person he truly opened up to was Palandine.She was gone now. So was Ziyal. Garak liked and respected Pythas, but the other man’s nature prevented a closer bond. Now he had Parmak and Ghemor. 

And his orphans.

And…

Julian. 

If that’s what he wanted.

Elim lay there unmoving and Julian wondered why he was being pulled into the man’s orbit so relentlessly. At this point, there was no grand design, no plan, no manipulation. There was absolutely nothing Garak had to gain by this, after all, he was home now and needed no leverage over a naïve young Starfleet officer to gain access to information that might become useful down the line. 

Whatever it was that originally brought Garak to him was long past its expiration date. He certainly didn’t need Julian any more, except perhaps as a source of supplies and a voice for Cardassia at Starfleet. It was only logical, and yet…

It didn’t _feel_ that way. 

Elim could have continued his amiable charade when Julian arrived, but he hadn’t. 

It was all so personal now, more raw and real and damn did it feel _right_. 

This is what true friendship could be like. Worrying openly about one another, taking care of each other, communicating openly and honestly… Julian had always strived for something like this, but Garak hadn’t exactly been cooperative before. Much to his shame, neither had Julian. 

_ Short-sighted, that’s what I am. Reckless. Fickle. _

He’d come to Cardassia to be forgiven.

_ Foolish. _ _ _

Garak could have thrown it all in his face, but he didn’t. Even when he was unaware of the cargo Julian had brought along. Their strange friendship appeared to have survived the distance, both physical and emotional, but where did that leave them now?

He wanted to ask him that. 

He just wanted to hear the man’s voice again.

He wanted Elim to tell him he was fine, even if it was a lie. 

Anything.

_ “Just… say anything.” _

That lunch he had with Miles when Garak had been missing was telling, but he understood himself so poorly then. His efforts to engage O’Brien in a literary debate were doomed from the beginning, but he had plowed on to fill the silence because it had been oppressive and suffocating. 

It was clearer now. He had been worried about his usual lunchtime companion. Missed him. Depended on him.

Feared for his safety.

How easy it had been to rationalize it away, back then. Ah, I’m just a scatter-brain, Miles, don’t mind me as I worry about a man you would rather toss out an airlock. 

How unkind his thoughts were even now. 

The touch of Elim’s hand left him feeling both grounded and bereft. It was a queer sensation he couldn’t quite place. The doors whooshed open behind him and he wondered if he would finally be evicted from the room and the hospital. If he pretended he belonged there, would they leave him alone?

He needed to calm his breathing.

“Bashir, I thought you might want to know how Rekat is doing.” Parmak’s soft voice reached him.

He relaxed and turned towards the man without letting go of Elim’s hand. 

“Of course, how is he?”

“The latest bloodwork is encouraging. They detected no anomalies and they are going to keep him here about a week for observation.”

“That’s great!” Julian smiled, feeling relieved. “They won’t refuse treatment?”

“They aren’t allowed to.” Parmak explained, “But the level of medical attention might vary, unfortunately. Old prejudices die hard.”

Julian nodded solemnly and looked at Garak’s sleeping face. 

“I hate that he fainted before he knew the outcome of the surgery…” Julian murmured. “I hope he isn’t dreaming about it.”

Parmak just stood there as a silent sentinel.

“He’s had quite enough nightmares in his waking life.” Julian stated, surprised he’d voiced the thought aloud. Perhaps the fact Parmak was fiercely loyal to Elim helped. 

“He will have something nice to wake up to.” Parmak said quietly, likely not to disturb the other patients. 

“Yes. Rekat is doing well, that’s bound to cheer him up.” He agreed and squeezed Elim’s hand a little. 

“I will take my leave now, Doctor Bashir.” The Cardassian excused himself.

“Are you sure?” Julian asked, bewildered by the brevity of the man’s visit. “Don’t you want to stay by his side?”

Parmak gave him a kind look and stated gently:

“I took an additional night shift to justify my presence in the hospital.”

“I will leave you to your work, then.” Julian inclined his head respectfully. 

“If he wants to call me when he wakes up, he knows how to.”

With that, the man made his exit. 

Julian returned to his vigil. 

The quiet of the Cardassian night gave him time to think. He wondered whether Tolan would be proud of Elim for what he had done for an abandoned Cardassian child. The man’s words filled his mind once more. While discussing the Hebitians, Tolan had said:

_ “They valued the soul, Elim. They were organized – they had to be, they had determined enemies – but their energy wasn’t devoted to the conquest of others, to accumulating resources they couldn’t produce themselves. They were able to support themselves, and this self-sufficiency allowed them to nurture and celebrate their group soul with art and culture.” _

The ancient Hebitians obviously had the right idea, but the climate change destroyed their chances of fighting off their enemies, the Cardassians. Were they the same race that simply splintered off at some point? It seemed that way. Their kinder ways stood no chance against their militaristically-minded cousins.

What made them open to the concept of souls? 

Julian wondered whether there were any Hebitian specific genetic markers he could explore.

Their ideals survived in some form; otherwise the Cardassian education system wouldn’t be trying quite so hard to dismiss them. 

_ “I’d been taught that the first Hebitians were a primitive people and had died off in the climatic catastrophe; that the survivors had built a new civilization that became superior in all ways.” _

But they hadn’t. Hunger and desperation drove them to surrender, whereupon they had been wiped out and assimilated. Julian shuddered at the thought. The only reason this didn’t happen to Bajor is their fierce resistance. He had no idea how many Bajoran women had been raped and left with children. The same thing likely happened to the ancient Hebitians… It was a dreadful prospect, but Julian wasn’t naïve enough to doubt it. 

Calyx had supposedly called Elim an “air man”. It was clearly an allusion to their Hebitian ancestry. It bore the connotation of several different words – dreamer, idealist - a fool who wastes his time with silly notions inapplicable in reality. Julian was sure Garak had gotten this from some Hebitian ancestor of Mila’s and Tolan’s. 

_ “Mother often complained that he didn’t have a grasp of what she called our “power-driven reality”, and he would reply that his reality was driven by the same power that grew his plants and shrubs.” _

If only Tolan had been given more time with Elim! The power he spoke of… did he refer to the power of life? Of thought?

The tendrils of light the Hebitians portrayed on their reliefs… Coming from the sun, passing through Oralius – that spiritual entity which guided them toward the higher ideals, and spreading through it into the people and the planet below.

Good people tended their planet carefully, like Tolan did. Despite the harshness of the land, he made the grounds fertile with his efforts – and he was just one man! What could Cardassians do if they embraced self-sufficiency like Ghemor pushed for?

Was Julian’s strange vision of a green Cardassia achievable?

_ “The first Hebitians had an advanced culture that was sophisticated on every level, Elim. Yes, it was solar based, but they were able to support themselves, and this is what most of the planet looked like.” _

Tolan had tried to show Elim a vision of a better world, but Garak couldn’t even fathom it back then.

_ “It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? We live in constant struggle with the land. We’ve become as hard and dry…” _

What if that was the point?

Harsh conditions produced harsh people. Even Garak had remarked upon it, first as he observed the Hebitian frieze, and then as he watched the forest of Ba’aten in awe. If this was true, it stood to reason that improving the land would produce a profound effect on its inhabitants. After all, the greenery was so rare on Cardassia that any parks used to be highly prized. Now… there was nearly nothing left. 

So… what would happen if there was suddenly a huge green plain, stretching for miles? Would it touch the hearts and minds of the individuals living on this war-torn world?

Could this planet be healed? Terraformed?

Why not?

The idea took root in his mind like one of Elim’s and Tolan’s Edosian orchids. If such a fiddly flower could be coaxed to grow in these harsh environs, couldn’t they expand Ba’aten, to begin with? As the last surviving rainforest in the entire Cardassian Union, it could be such an important symbol. Could they then reclaim some of their deserts, as well?

Julian had never been to a meeting of the Oralian Way, because there had been no chance. He wondered whether it felt a bit like this.

Inspiring.

Invigorating.

Could he make a strong enough case for the Federation to send a terraforming team to Cardassia Prime? It could be a wonderful project to improve the relations between the Union and the Federation, if only both sides agreed to it!

Julian, who had been wandering around purposelessly since the end of the Dominion war, found his inner fires stoked and surging into the darkness; engulfing his doubts. He was so eager to present his idea to Elim, but the man was still out cold.

He took his chair closer and debated whispering into the man’s ear. Could that wake him? 

Would stimulating one of his pressure points be better?

He didn’t want to overstep just because he was anxious to speak to the man. 

Julian leaned in and whispered into his ear:

“Elim… Wake up. I have something important to share.”

The Cardassian gave no signs of awareness. 

“You will like it, I promise.” Julian tried again.

Still no response. He placed his index and middle fingers on the man’s face to take his pulse again. Steady. Strong.

That was a comfort at least. 

Watching his friend lying before him helpless and essentially dead to the world sparked a realization in Julian. 

_ I care for him. _

Genuinely.

His heart swelled with the emotion, strong and undiluted, heavy and heady like that _kanar_ he’d tasted and learned to appreciate at Ghemor’s. 

_ I love him _ .

It felt right to admit this to himself. Elim was a curious choice for a friend, nobody could deny that, but Julian knew their bond was one of true and reciprocated affection and esteem. He respected the Cardassian’s skill and tenacity, his sharp wit and even sharper tongue, which never stopped spinning stories. True or false, what did it matter? There had always been honesty and truth even in the most blatant lies Garak served him. 

They had gotten closer in these past… how many days? Week and a half? God, was it really just ten days?

It wouldn’t be the first time ten days proved significant to their friendship. After the wire, Garak had been… more relaxed around him. Julian had been too relieved that the man didn’t bring up their fight to look deeper into what was happening. Garak had… opened up then, hadn’t he? Just as Julian had begun his long and slow retreat.

_ I didn’t notice… _

Julian sighed. He was tired of not noticing things, tired of being the last person to pick up social cues. 

He took Elim’s hand in his again and lowered his forehead onto the tailor’s shoulder. He breathed in deeply to regain his equilibrium. That sweet scent he was becoming familiar with was almost entirely drowned out by the smell of Cardassian hospital, but he could still distinguish it if he focused. It helped steady him. 

“Elim…” He mumbled into the man’s shoulder, certain nobody else in the room could hear him. All the other patients were asleep. “Stop being so bloody stubborn and wake up so we can bicker like we always do.”

When the man showed no signs of awareness, Julian started caressing the soft side of his hand. 

“I never want to see you so heroic again. It’s wonderful, but I don’t think I can bear it.”

Only calm, barely audible breathing broke the silence. Cardassians were curiously quiet when asleep. 

“You won’t wake up until I say something thoroughly embarrassing, will you? Perhaps this amuses you, Garak. You can just lie there and have me spill all my secrets without needing to lift a finger.”

The man’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. 

“I had wasted so much time analyzing the wrong things… Can you forgive me?”

Nothing.

“You must be proud of your interrogation tactics. I must admit they are quite effective.”

More than anything, he wanted Elim to wake up and tease him in that fond manner of his. He would say something infuriating, like:

_ Interrogation tactics? _ _ Surely you jest, my dear Doctor! I haven’t even posed a single question. _

“Great. Now I am imagining having a conversation with you. The imaginary you is currently laughing at me.”

The silence around them was broken only by the occasional retreating footsteps beyond the closed doors. 

“I liked the way you were at Ghemor’s… That was the most relaxed I’d ever seen you. Perhaps going back to Cardassia was all you ever needed.”

Julian nuzzled the fabric of Garak’s tunic. 

“Elim…”

_ I should tell you… You’ve waited so long for this, haven’t you? _

The body he was resting his head on jostled slowly, in a distinctly languid way one moved while asleep. Perhaps the pressure on his shoulder was uncomfortable. Julian raised his head to watch Elim settle into a more comfortable position, which turned out to be facing him.

_ Are you asleep, or are you just messing with me? _

The face was relaxed in slumber and offered no clue.

Julian melted a little.

“I don’t even care if you’re pretending to sleep at this point, Elim. But if I were you, I’d be very worried. You’re essentially at my mercy, and Zeyem’s database was very thorough.”

The man’s lips quirked at that.

“Is that a promise, my dear?” Elim murmured with his eyes closed. He sounded quite drowsy. 

“If you transport me to an unknown location without prior consent again, you bet it is.”

Elim’s eyes opened slowly, heavy with sleep. 

“So you wouldn’t be opposed to being transported to an unknown location if you consent to it first?”

The Cardassian asked in his usual maddening manner. 

_ _ “That eager to get rid of me?” Julian’s eyebrows shot up. “Because I could have sworn you wanted me here… Must have been my overactive imagination!”

Garak accepted the little verbal spar and retorted:

“I obviously only want you for your skills, Doctor.”

Julian sighed, but knew Garak didn’t mean it. It was just a little game they played. The steps of the old familiar dance were familiar and well-practiced. He loved the back and forth. Yet, it’s been a long day and he wanted plain and simple, for once. 

“I love you, Elim, so… don’t die on me. It would be a tragic waste for Cardassia.”

Elim’s eyes glimmered in the gloom like twin stars. 

“I shall endeavor not to, then. Wouldn’t want to disappoint my adoring fans, would I?”

Julian wondered why his first words went unanswered and his turmoil must have been evident, because Garak gave a long-suffering sigh and muttered a sleepy:

“And I you, Julian.”

Elim closed his eyes at that and fell asleep once more. 

Feeling lighter after he had shared what was on his mind, Julian reclined in his chair, made himself as comfortable as he could and shut his eyes. 

Elim’s hand was warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved Tolan. I would adore seeing a novel solely about him and his thoughts and philosophies.
> 
> Such a kind man.


	40. A Lofty Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian is awakened and told he must go to work. He discusses the situation with Parmak.
> 
> Julian tells Zeyem of his grand plan for Cardassia's future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this chapter was titled "Duty Calls". I really can't tell which is more suitable. Now you have both!

Julian was awoken by the sound of Parmak's voice.

“Bashir… Wake up.”

When he cracked his eyes open, a massive yawn emerged and he was too slow to cover it with his hand. 

“Wha-, whasamatter?”

“I tried reasoning with Zeyem, but she wouldn’t relent. You have to get to work.”

With a small groan, Julian peeled himself off the chair he had dozed off in. 

“Do I have to walk there?” He all but whined.

“Fortunately, no. There’s a skimmer taking a few patients to the Research Center and I arranged for you to come along.”

Julian gave a sigh of relief and realized his right arm was numb when he tried to move it. During the few hours spent sleeping, their fingers had somehow gotten intertwined. He gave Elim’s hand one last affectionate squeeze and gently extricated his own. 

“When does it leave?” He asked, getting up from the chair and hearing his spine crackle in protest. 

“In ten metrics. Say your goodbyes, I shall wait outside.”

“No need,” Julian said dismissively and landed a feather-light kiss on Elim’s forehead. The man was still asleep. “Rest well, Elim… And don’t you dare do something stupid while I’m gone, you hear me?”

With a last fond look, he followed Parmak out of the room.

While they were descending stairs, Julian’s brain conjured up a thought he had managed to ignore yesterday.

“Did you find out who assaulted Rekat?”

Parmak’s voice was grave.

“No. Phela hasn’t been able to describe who it was since she was too upset at the time, and it would be pointless to expect more from her. She saved his life by running to the hospital as fast as she could. At this point, the only one that can tell us more is Rekat, but they will likely keep him under a while longer, to rest. Waking up now, in panic, with his sister absent and neither me nor Elim at hand to soothe him is a recipe for disaster.”

Julian understood. 

“Please, Parmak… Don’t let Elim go off half-cocked. He’s in no state to be traipsing around on some revenge quest.”

“I will escort him home and keep an eye on him after my shift ends.”

_ Don’t worry,  _ Those words meant. _I’ll take care of him_.

“Thank you.” Julian said gratefully. He wondered what Parmak will be forced to do to make Garak give up on his investigative impulses. How would he distract Elim? With a heated debate? Wait… Weren’t those just Cardassian flirting?

He really didn’t need the mental image of two amorous Cardassians right now, especially because he knew them personally. 

All those times they bickered over lunch… How much of it was actual flirting, and how much was it just Garak trying to be patient with him? Knowing Elim, he was likely getting a kick from Julian’s obliviousness to the potential meaning of their little literary spats. Either that or the tailor was flirting to pass the time, seeing as there weren’t many people around who would even talk to him and was just trying to keep his conversational skills sharp. 

Parmak took him to a back door which led out to a skimmer pad. 

One of the nurses was currently escorting a patient into the vehicle. 

“They know you’re coming, so you may board now.”

Julian nodded, but then halted.

“Wait, have you notified Ghemor about-“

“Yes. Alon is aware of the situation. Who do you think tried interceding with Zeyem after I failed? She’s as immovable as a mountain at times.”

“Oh… All right. Will you stay with him until I come back?”

“Of course, Bashir.”

Nodding in gratitude, Julian strode off to the skimmer and boarded.

He somehow knew this feeling of worry would be following him until he got back to Tolan’s shed at the end of the day and saw Elim was well and definitely not embroiled in some cloak and dagger nonsense behind his back.

_ Who am I kidding? _

***

He kept staring at the chronometer and wanted to throttle himself each time he did. He knew exactly what time it was. He had no need to keep checking so compulsively approximately every thirty seconds. 

“Are you sure you aren’t part-Cardassian, little Bashir?” Zeyem’s firm voice floated towards him.

“Fairly certain, Zeyem.” He said jokingly, knowing that leaving room for doubt was an appreciated maneuver in Cardassian conversation.

“Two air men! Mercy upon my old, dutiful soul!” She said with exaggerated haughtiness.

“I shall take that as a compliment, Zeyem.” Julian inclined his head respectfully, knowing that his reconciliatory gesture was quite ruined by his cheeky grin. 

“Only you would!” She huffed.

“Well, excuse me if I have a lofty dream for Cardassia’s future!”

“Hah!” She snorted, startling Julian. A poised, intimidating woman like her – snorting? Now that’s something you didn’t see every day. 

“And what is this lofty dream? It wouldn’t have anything to do with curing this little outbreak of ours, would it?”

Julian had the good grace to flush. He guessed he deserved that. Regardless, she had asked, so he may as well tell her. Might be a good idea to run it by someone before he presents his crazy idea to Elim.

“It is something that could cure a deeper kind of affliction, I think…” He said. “Zeyem…” He trailed off, “What do you know of the first Hebitians?”

She leveled him with a withering stare.

“Old widows’ tales, Doctor Bashir? And here I was thinking you were a man of science…”

“I don’t propose anything unscientific Zeyem, just… keep an open mind, all right? I was once told it was the essence of intellect.”

She narrowed her sharp eyes at him, but didn’t interrupt. 

“The Fire destroyed your infrastructure and took many lives, but that’s not the only thing that was affected. The dust has been obscuring the sky and creating storms that are making things even worse than they already are. But… know what’s really effective against the wind?”

“Well-planned infrastructure.” She glared at him and he got the feeling she was losing patience with his long-winded explanation.

“That too, but I’m not referring to that.” He decided to switch tactics. “Tell me, have you seen Garak’s garden?”

She seemed taken aback by this question. “Bashir, if you are referring to the impressive feat of Garak managing to keep a plant alive in these circumstances-“

He plowed on irreverently. “So you admit it’s impressive?”

“Growing Edosian orchids has been impressive even before the Fire.”

“And Cardassia has lost most of its few remaining green zones, hasn’t it?”

“Nearly all, by my reckoning.”

“Entire families used to go to Tarlak Grounds to enjoy the scenery.” Julian led on. 

“I believe it is time to present your grand idea, or I will keep you here over night.”

She must have known how cruel a threat that was, but Julian was willing to call her bluff. 

“The only reason why Cardassia had been so brutal with its expansionist policy is the fact your homeworld doesn’t allow you to be self-sufficient. Your resources are depleted and your eco-system is likely in the worst shape it’s even been. Now, imagine there was a way to make it better?”

“Our scientists haven’t managed it in thousands of years, Bashir, so you can save your misguided, condescending-“

“The Federation has very advanced terraforming technology. On Earth, over three hundred years ago, we had depleted and cut down most of our rain forests. The loss in biodiversity was staggering. As the winds stripped away the fertile forest soil, deserts spread. It continued until humanity acknowledged what it was doing to the planet that sustained us and made a concerted effort to change. We started planting trees, whole forests worth. And a curious thing happened… Within a few years, as the saplings grew, so did the grass. Sheltered by the canopy, life crept back in. Funghi, flowers, insects, birds, rodents… And predators. Nature found a way. All it needed was a little push.”

Zeyem regarded him curiously, almost like she was opting to reserve judgment.

“Wouldn’t seeing your world blossom be a wondrous thing?” Julian said passionately. “Just imagine how transformative, how impactful it would be to walk down a grassy field and watch the sun set over the mountains?”

“Cardassia needs farmland, not meadows to frolic on.” Zeyem said scathingly.

“Once the land is alive, you can use it for crops – in moderation. I’m sure the Federation wouldn’t refuse, how could it? Everyone knows Cardassia was hit the hardest by the war!”

“As far as I’m aware, they have been insultingly reticent in offering their assistance.”

“They cannot be sure of your current political climate. I already promised Ghemor I would send a detailed report and put in a good word. Now I will also send a suggestion for a joint terraforming project. It would be a perfect opportunity for our people to work together on a common goal everyone could be passionate about.”

“Federation? Passionate about helping Cardassia? I used to think you were naïve, Bashir, but now I’m beginning to suspect you’re delusional as well.”

“The people in that line of work are passionate about breathing life into dead or dying worlds. They don’t care about politics at all!”

“They may not, Bashir, but the people who deploy them _do_.”

That was actually a fair point, but Julian was unwilling to let it go without at least trying. 

“Well, I will try my hardest to push this through to anyone that will listen. I will pester every admiral, forward it to all news agencies, create such public pressure and outcry if I have to, that they’ll have no choice but to listen!” He stopped to catch his breath.

Finally, a small smile blossomed on Zeyem’s usually stony face.

“Seeing a human so passionate about the welfare of Cardassia… If only my compatriots could see you now… I was skeptical about you, Bashir. Not just your qualifications. Why were you sent here, I wondered, and by whom? Ghemor wasn’t certain you could be taken at face value and I agreed wholeheartedly. We overruled and dismissed Garak’s claims of your unusual kindness as pure sentimentality on his part. It doesn’t matter who was correct in their assessment anymore, Doctor, because any person willing to further our cause even half as passionately as you is an ally. And Cardassia can most certainly use any allies it can get.”

“So…” Julian stammered, “You don’t think my idea is crazy?”

“Oh, I never said it wasn’t crazy,” She looked at him fondly. “Only an air man can dream of such impossible things.”

“I still don’t feel that as an insult.” Julian smiled hesitantly.

“Definitely delusional.” She said as if offering a lamentable medical prognosis. “And yet, a part of me wishes you to prove me wrong, little human.”

“You’re just a big softie, aren’t you Zeyem?” Julian grinned at her, wishing he had the guts to share an affectionate touch with her. She looked quite maternal in that moment. 

“I don’t have to take insults from my employees, Bashir, now go back to your research.”

“You don’t pay me, Zeyem, so I’m technically not your employee!” He said cheerfully. 

“No, you are a _volunteer_, which means you have even _less_ rights than an employee.” Zeyem said slyly. 

“A volunteer could always… _Volunteer_ someplace else.” He countered deviously.

“Oh, he _could_… But he doesn’t dare.” She said shrewdly and leveled him with a look deadlier than the strain of Rudellian Plague they were researching. 

He swallowed and conceded defeat. 

Better not piss her off further. Who knows how imaginative her retribution could be? 

_ Very. _ He mused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think Julian is crazy for his ambitious dream?


	41. Suspicions, Confirmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At work, Julian worries over Garak and an insidious disease he's researching.
> 
> When he gets back to the shed, he gets an unpleasant surprise.

17:00 hours came and went. Julian kept looking over his shoulder to see if Zeyem would dismiss him as she usually did. Her deeply concentrated face was made of stone. Whatever it was she was focusing on, his furtive glances couldn’t penetrate. 

He sighed and looked at his data again. This new disease was insidious. It followed no discernible pattern, was transmitted through touch and if left untreated for over a month, resulted in massive organ failure. He’d been bashing his head over it, on and off, ever since he came to Cardassia, but the illness eluded his efforts at gleaning its patterns. He transferred the new data on it to his PADD for later; perhaps inspiration would strike when he wasn’t trying to think about it so hard. 

Also, when he wasn’t distracted and eager to get back home.

He sighed again and heard Zeyem groan.

“Bashir, stop your infuriating moaning. Come here.”

He stashed his PADD into his bag and practically skipped to her desk. 

“Yes, Zeyem?”

“For all our sakes, I hope Garak stays out of trouble. The way you’re whining now, I can’t imagine how useless you’d become if it were a more serious matter - I might end up killing you out of sheer annoyance.”

Julian lowered his head like a scolded child. 

“Take this to Garak, and congratulations.”

Puzzled, he looked up and saw her handing him a little brass tin, which he picked up dutifully.

“What is it? And congratulations on what?”

“It’s tea. _Choban_ variety,” Zeyem grinned. “And congratulations because you get to go home.”

“I can leave?” He asked enthusiastically. At her acknowledgment, he very nearly dashed out of the room, stopping when he was just about to open the doors to tell her:

“Thank you, Zeyem. I think he likes this kind. He’ll appreciate it!”

She laughed and waved him off. 

He wasted not another second and sprinted out.

***

He’d been lucky to catch a ride in the skimmer and a part of him suspected Zeyem had prepared it for him. It was ridiculously thoughtful. 

He disembarked and thanked the tired pilot for dropping him off before strolling up towards Tolan’s shack, hoping he wasn’t going to be greeted by anything unpleasant. 

_ I hope Garak isn’t trying to conduct a manhunt remotely. _

That was, of course, only one of the possibilities.

_ I hope he isn’t overworking himself. Maybe Parmak was smart enough to slip him a sedative. _

Then he thought about all the other things Parmak could be slipping Garak and he choked on his preposterous idea.

_ Oh God… I really don’t want to walk in on  _ that_._

Julian supposed, medically speaking, there was no reason to abstain from… Ugh. Even contemplating this made his insides squirm in discomfort. 

It was none of his business! After all, Parmak must have been worried sick yesterday, and since he’d been forced to work he was unable to stand vigil by Elim’s bed even though he probably wanted to. In any case, Julian fervently hoped that any such… _shenanigans_, if there were any, had occurred earlier in the day while he was working. Elim was discreet enough not to leave any trace or evidence of such things, which spared Julian considerable embarrassment. 

Determined to give the men advance warning of his approach (just in case), he took a deep breath and knocked on the closed doors, wondering why he was feeling so flustered. 

_ Nobody wants to imagine their friends… getting a… leg over.  _

He coughed to clear his throat as much as his straying thoughts. 

_ Right. _ _ _

Why was nobody opening the door? He could hear some kinds of whispers behind the doors, and was it him or did they sound… hushed? Was that… a hiss? What the hell?

He knocked again, feeling his face flaming.

When a disheveled Parmak opened the door, Julian wanted to die of embarrassment. 

“Oh, Zeyem let you go early today, Bashir?”

Julian could hear Garak’s snickering from within and felt so utterly mortified he considered telling the men he’d give them ten minutes to get presentable while he went for a walk or something.

“Uh…” He stammered. “Yeah. Must have taken pity on me.”

“She’s not inconsiderate, just… principled.” Parmak explained in a tired voice.

Julian now wished she had kept him longer, so he didn’t have to watch Parmak fixing his wrinkled tunic in front of him. 

“Do come in, dear Doctor.” Garak beckoned from within the shed, sounding quite chipper for a man who nearly exsanguinated to death yesterday. 

Julian’s eyes went wide as he hesitantly stepped over the threshold. Garak was sitting on his stool, dressed in nothing but a pair of trousers. He had his shirt in hand and was currently fiddling with one of the seams.

Julian choked at the sight.

_ Whyyyywhywhywhy _ _ …  _ His inner voice was naught but a high pitched whine at the moment.

“Uhhh, should I come back later, when you’re done?” Julian stammered like the blundering idiot he was.

“It will only take me a moment to fix this seam, my dear. I shan’t scandalize you much further.” Elim said with a wicked glint in his eyes. 

Julian was pretty damn certain there was absolutely nothing wrong with that damn seam, and even if there was, didn’t want to think about how it got that way in the first place.

“Kelas has just been taking a nap, weren’t you, my sweet?”

Parmak looked at him scathingly and sighed.

“I was. Until you woke me up to tell me to go see who was at the door.”

Julian didn’t think this situation could have gotten any worse, but he’d been wrong.

“I couldn’t go out in my state of undress, dear Kelas. That would have been quite… inappropriate.”

Julian couldn’t give less of a damn about Garak’s state of undress, but the implication, which was all but 99.99999% confirmed made his cheeks burn. But… those soft ridges that ran down his arms and ended at the elbows, they looked… aesthetically pleasing? Also, his back looked utterly fascinating; what with the wide scales on his neck becoming smaller and less noticeable the lower he looked-

“Inappropriate!” Parmak snorted and politely excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Julian wanted the floor to swallow him and spit him out somewhere on the other side of the universe, preferably somewhere in the vacuum, so his suffering would end. 

He wanted to tell Garak he should be more discreet, or turn away and stop watching, but he couldn’t do either. Instead, he put his foot in his mouth for no good reason.

“Do I even dare ask how you ripped that seam?”

Garak quirked his eye ridges devilishly and said in an exaggerated tone of suffering:

“The incompetent brutes _helping_ me to the skimmer ripped it!”

“How terribly inconsiderate of them.” Julian retorted sarcastically. He should have expected such an obvious lie. At this point, he wasn’t even surprised. Garak has had the entire day to fix the stupid seam and only chose to do so now when Julian was due home? Right. Did Elim still take him for a fool?

“Zeyem sends her regards, by the way.” Julian said and handed Garak the brass tin.

Elim took it with obvious interest and unscrewed the lid.

“_Choban__!_ How considerate of her.” He said, obviously pleased.

Julian wanted to comment, but the sight of Elim’s bare chest was a trifle distracting. His _chula_ was prominent, framed by shadowed scales and – oh – there were ridges there too, smaller, more ornamental almost, just like the male Cardassian diagram showed and just like he saw in the operating room at the Research center that one time he had heart surgery, about four days ago, but then it had been his job and he could be clinical, detach himself from the sight, which was quite impossible now, completely impossible in fact, and he stared like a rabbit caught in headlights, frozen stupid by the light. 

“How brazen you are, my dear.” Garak murmured in a supremely self-satisfied way.

Julian huffed and tore his eyes away, gluing them firmly onto Elim’s blue eyes which were mocking him mercilessly.

“M-m-me?!” Julian stuttered in shock. “I’m the brazen one?? I’m not the one on display, so- so- Shamelessly!”

Elim’s smile was smug and his tone superior.

“You lounge about this place half-covered or, indeed, in several instances, _mostly_ uncovered and I’m the shameless one?”

Julian sputtered gracelessly. That was completely different! It was bloody hot on Cardassia, what was he supposed to do?? Marinate in his sweat the entire day? Then Garak would complain about his smell, why was he being so damn unreasonable? Also, Julian didn’t _always_ change in the shed, just those two times before! And he most certainly didn’t show off his damn… afterglow!! 

“Welcome home, my dear.” Elim said sweetly and offered his palm.

Julian just stared at him in disbelief. This couldn’t be normal behavior! Still, he felt compelled to return the gesture, so he did. Ugh. He really tried not to think where that hand had been just before he’d knocked but failed abysmally and his mind filled with images of the two men exchanging-

_ NO. _

Busy wrestling with his appalling lack of self-discipline, he nearly missed Garak’s maddening grin.

“My, my… What are you imagining right now, Julian? What’s that silly human idiom again, ah! Penny for your thoughts?”

Julian’s heart was pounding in his chest like a war drum. Why was Garak doing this to him? It was positively mortifying! 

“Could it be you are…” Garak lowered his voice conspiratorially and cast a look around as if he was making sure nobody was eavesdropping, then murmured entirely too closely to Julian’s burning face:

“Jealous?”

The thought was preposterous! He wasn’t jealous, there was no way! He was simply uncomfortable with the couple’s open display of sexuality, that was all!

“Don’t be absurd, Garak. I have no reason to be jealous, isn’t that right?” He looked at the Cardassian sternly, trying to project confidence. 

Elim gave him a delighted little laugh at that.

“None whatsoever, my dear.”

“Elim, don’t be cruel.” Parmak chided from the doorway and Garak grew more serious and decided to get dressed.

Why did Elim listen to Parmak when he almost never listened to Julian? Was it his youth, his species, or his general demeanor that made him the butt of the Cardassian’s jokes? 

It was strange, how Garak could make him feel both as an equal and an inferior simultaneously. For some reason, he didn’t want to feel inferior anymore. Why did he allow Garak to walk all over him? Julian was many things, but meek was not usually one of them. He swaggered, he was cocky and he was audacious, so why was he willing to allow Elim such leeway?

It couldn’t be that the tailor was still holding his forgiveness ransom, because he wasn’t, so why did Julian feel so wretched?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuun!
> 
> Thoughts? Comments?
> 
> Lynch mob coming for the author?


	42. Alone Once More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian ponders the nature of his friendship with Garak and despairs over it.
> 
> Garak offers him a way out of the cage that his mind has become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, this is where things finally start happening, romantically-wise. 
> 
> Second, to anyone reading this and not reading EmpokNor's gorgeous AU "Roots", you are missing out. Her style inspired the way I wrote this chapter, and many others down the line. If you like what I write, even a little bit, you'll love her work too. Drop her a comment or two, feed the starving muse! It is what we live for!

It didn't take long for Parmak to excuse himself and Julian felt relieved. It was bad enough he’d be forced to spend the rest of the evening with a … _satisfied_ Garak. For some reason it gave him the shivers. 

He felt disturbed and for once, knew exactly why. The feeling of being left out, treated as an afterthought… As an unruly child. Garak and Parmak had every right to be happy together, and as far as Julian was concerned, they had his blessing. Nobody deserved happiness more than Elim.

But did they have to rub it in? It would be equally indiscreet if he’d brought Ezri here and let them see the… aftermath; her flushed and breathless, him disheveled and glowing… Even when he was dating Leeta, he kept their private business… well… private. Mostly. Risa was an exception. Risa didn’t count.

Because Garak hadn’t been there to watch and be scandalized by it.

To be fair, that likely wouldn’t even faze the man. As a spy, he must have seen all kinds of weird, unspeakable acts, and some minor public indecency likely ranked quite low on the list of disturbing things he’d seen. Julian wondered whether he was projecting, though. What did he know of Garak’s personal life? If the man hadn’t written to him, he never would have even guessed Elim had a thing for men. Or non-Cardassians. Julian had never seen the tailor with anyone except Ziyal, but she turned out to be the _only_ one Garak apparently wasn’t attracted to in the least. 

“Do you want me to make some _choban_, my dear?”

Julian didn’t care about tea. He wanted to resolve this feeling of… whatever. With a sigh, he relented.

“All right. I’ll try it.”

If Garak picked up on his listlessness, he decided not to remark upon it. The one time Julian would have liked the man to sink his teeth into a subject, he was choosing not to. It was absolutely infuriating.

“It’s not as sweet as red leaf, so I wonder whether you’ll like it or not.”

Julian looked at the man, at his industrious hands and thought he would gladly take poison if they were the ones delivering it. 

_ I trust him _ .

He couldn’t quite remember why, though. 

Julian turned his back on Elim and undressed. It took him all of 20 seconds to change into his sleeping attire. He knew it was too early to do so, but the stresses of the past few days suddenly caught up with him and he just wanted to sleep. He lay on the cot, turning his back on Elim and closed his eyes. 

There was something wrong with him. They had made such progress in these past eleven days, so where was this hollow feeling coming from?

He had fallen apart in Elim’s arms and confessed his most shameful fear, only to be forgiven and accepted.

He had watched Elim act like a perfectly content man at Ghemor’s celebration.

He had seen the Cardassian shed tears and tremble with grief at finally processing Ziyal’s feelings for him and her death. 

And this morning, in the dead of night, he had all but extorted the words he never thought Garak would reveal. 

Julian had to admit it – he’d been wrong. 

Before, when he was new to the station… For the briefest of moments, he considered the implication of Garak’s words at their first meeting. He could still replay that first conversation word for word…

_ “…if you should require any apparel, or merely wish, as I do, for a bit of enjoyable company now and then, I'm at your disposal, Doctor.“ _

In hindsight...

_ “I'm so glad to have made such an interesting new friend today.” _

Friends… Julian sincerely doubted that had been part of the plan. Garak simply needed an _in_ with the Federation and Julian was the most logical choice. Kira would sooner have shot Garak than spoken to him, Odo was implacable, Sisko too powerful, Jadzia too wise and O’Brien too obviously prejudiced. Julian was simply the only one left. When he thought about it that way, he despaired. 

Their friendship was built on lies.

And yet, somehow, that unstable foundation proved enough for them. Self-interest changed into interest, convenience grew into companionship and courtesy evolved into affection. 

Julian felt a tear slide into his hairline. 

_ It’s a miracle we managed to get this far _ .

That singular drop melted into two.

_ Our friendship is mended, so why am I crying? _

It made no sense and Julian _hated_ when things made no sense. It reminded him uncomfortably of his failings.

Failure was a concept he’d never been able to make peace with. What good was his augmented DNA if he could still fail?

The wind was picking up outside. He could hear the sand prickling against the exterior surface of the shed’s wall. 

He remembered his first thoughts upon trekking across the ruins of Cardassia City.

The dignity of its people.

The faded glory of its architecture.

The unrivalled beauty of his first sunset and the exultant joy of their first sunrise.

That initial taste of red leaf tea.

The burn of _kanar_ and its deceptive warmth and sweetness.

And…

_ That smile when he realized I’d come. _

That memory alone was warmer than the star Cardassia revolved around, sweeter than red leaf tea and more intoxicating than Ghemor’s fine vintage of _kanar__._

He clutched his chest and wondered what hurt so much. 

Elim was safe, alive and right there behind him, puttering in his miniature, makeshift kitchen making them tea. 

Then why did Julian feel so alone?

He hadn’t felt alone, not once since he came to Cardassia, so what changed?

_ Nothing. _

_ I just brought my broken pieces with me _ .

How foolish it was of him to expect a mended friendship could fix him. How naïve.

_ Elim _ _ … Why don’t you stitch me back together again, like I tried to do with Kukalaka? _ _You’re a much better tailor, I’m sure you could manage it._

But he shouldn’t be expected to, that was wrong. Julian had to fix himself. How ironic that a man who could cure almost anyone, failed so abysmally at diagnosing and healing himself?

Cardassia was obviously good for Elim, even as destroyed as it was. 

Parmak was good for him too.

Julian wanted nothing more than to be just as good. 

_ I want to give you a green Cardassia. My greatest, most ambitious gift - for anyone. _

Julian curled more into himself and tried desperately to hold onto the image which had enraptured him only a day ago, barely a meter from the place he was currently lying. For some reason, the green field wasn’t as lush, and the sun wasn’t as warm. He looked at his hands and noticed they were dark. No light was shining from within, reaching out eagerly to embrace the sights around him. Whatever that moment - that lightning behind Akleen \- that _spark_ had been, had gone out as quickly as it had appeared and he felt utterly lost. 

It seemed he couldn’t even be a Cardassian. Perhaps Oralius’ teachings and guidance weren’t meant for messed-up people like him.

He wanted Kukalaka.

He craved to be normal.

He _needed_…

More than anything… More than air, more than water, more than-

_ Yes. Right there- _

A warm hand carded through his hair and he trembled at the feeling like a newborn.

“I have upset you somehow. Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Elim’s soothing voice washed over his jagged, splintered mindscape.

_ It’s real… In his eyes, I am real. _

Tears came regardless, in utter silence.

It was enough, wasn’t it? As long as Garak saw him, that was good enough.

“Talk to me, my dear.” Elim cajoled ever so gently and Julian wanted to answer but lost all his words.

He wriggled around instead and buried his face in the man’s chest, breathing in with his mouth open, great, greedy gulps of air.

“If you cannot talk, show. Show me what you want. Show me what you need of me.”

How? How could Garak tell? 

The trouble was, Julian had no idea what he wanted. He just knew he did. 

Want.

_ Something. _ _ _

Anything.

With trembling hands he half-pulled, half-pushed the man down onto the cot with him and oh, Elim was so perceptive, so adaptable that he followed and obeyed even those disjointed, unspoken commands of his.

Julian’s heart fluttered and thrashed in intermittent bursts. 

Elim’s hand stopped its stroking movements through Julian’s hair and he arched back into the tailor’s touch. 

“Good…” Garak soothed and continued his ministrations, but it only doused his anxiety for a few seconds.

_ More _ .

Julian molded himself against Elim’s side, desperate for warmth. 

“Show me…” Elim whispered into his ear and Julian trembled from head to toe. It almost felt like he was in the man’s thrall. 

“You are safe here, my dear. I won’t judge.”

No, he wouldn’t, would he? Not when he knew what it felt like, all too well.

Julian shifted minutely, crawling deeper into the man’s secure embrace. 

_ There it is… _

That scent which soothed him. 

Julian felt like a dying star, fading and collapsing unto itself. 

More than anything, he wished to be reignited.

He could feel Elim’s neck ridges against his cheek, his nose and his mouth. So smooth. Pliant.

_ Surprising. _

The wind whirled around outside, casting small pebbles into the walls and clattering the windows.

Elim smelled so sweet. 

Julian’s heart was buzzing in his chest.

Supple gray skin rested against his parted lips and he breathed in like he was drowning. 

Then Elim’s hand traveled to the nape of his neck, causing his skin to erupt in gooseflesh and making him gasp into the man’s neck. Then, he felt himself stiffen.

A soft brush of thumb against his ear made him moan incoherently.

His body was thrumming.

Alive.

His tongue darted out to moisten his parched lips and he felt liquid fire spreading through his limbs.

It was beginning. 

Ignition.

Fusion.

Hydrogen to Helium.

“Listen to what your body is trying to tell you, Julian. Follow its lead.”

Julian whimpered.

“Nothing bad can happen. Don’t think… Just _do.”_

Julian listened… 

Shivered.

And obeyed.

His lips met warm skin, connected.

Retreated.

Reached out again - no more than a tentative brush.

Garak hummed underneath him.

In encouragement.

In appreciation?

Julian dared try again and Elim let out a breathy moan.

_ In pleasure _ .

A distant, distorted voice was speaking in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t hear it well enough to discern who was speaking or what was being said. 

His hand crawled across Elim’s chest, trying to find the ridges he’d only seen today.

The warm, solid body shifted and Julian felt a curious, breathless sense of anticipation.

A coarse palm was caressing his cheek and he knew he should open his eyes. He wanted to see with all his senses, wanted to check if that golden light was back, and then there was a pressure against his lips, soft yet insistent, smooth, warm - pliant. He responded with a fervor he couldn’t explain and pushed back into the sensual touch.

The taste was utterly intoxicating and he lapped it up like he’d never tasted anything half as addictive. 

Before he knew what had begun, it was over and Elim’s soft voice reached him:

“Are you sure this is what you need?”

Julian’s eyes snapped open and he watched the Cardassian hovering above him, with a clear question shining in his gaze.

Elim seemed… Slightly out of breath. Only slightly. Almost imperceptibly.

A part of Julian wanted to shatter that self-control by reaching out and –

And what?

What had he been doing?

His skin was flushed, his breathing ragged and his lips swollen.

Julian’s eyes widened in horror.

_ This was… It was… _

Wrong.

_ What about Ezri? And Parmak? _

What had he done?

“I… I need to clear my head.” Julian muttered and all but escaped, stepping into his boots and grabbing the clothes he wore today, intending to go out, somewhere, anywhere, but the howling wind and the _tinkle – chink – whoosh_ from the outside reminded him he could go nowhere.

Elim got up quietly, appearing completely unperturbed and calm. The Cardassian passed him by and Julian saw him preparing tea, like nothing had ever happened.

How could Garak be so unnaturally calm about this?

Wasn’t this betrayal towards his lover?

How did Cardassians even feel about fidelity outside of marriage?

Julian had no idea. He lowered the clothes onto the table, leaving them rumpled and sat onto the cot, where he proceeded to bury his face into his hands.

_ I need to tell Ezri. I never meant for this to happen. I have to. It’s only right. _

It would hurt her. He knew that for certain. 

Perhaps a lie would be kinder, but then it would eat him alive and he was clearly already falling apart at the seams. He couldn’t take much more.

_ Why did it happen? _

Why did he allow it to happen? Was he so far gone that he would seek comfort like an animal?

_ I am disgusting… _

“Drink your tea, my dear. It should be cool enough for you.”

Julian looked up in turmoil and accepted the cup numbly. 

“How can you be so calm?” Julian muttered, half soothed by Garak’s reaction and half dismayed.

“You needed me and I provided. There is no need to make it any more complicated than that.”

Julian was taken aback.

“You actually mean that, don’t you?”

“You should know me well enough at this point to be able to judge that for yourself.” Garak said simply and sat down next to him.

The lack of space between them should have disturbed and unnerved Julian, but he felt his anxiety ease marginally instead. __

“I should start using statements instead of questions.” Julian murmured. 

“I meant what I said before, my dear. You _have_ learned.”

“Not enough.” Julian lamented, cradling the unfamiliar tea.

_ Never enough _ .

“I believe you will find that we are, most often, our harshest archons.”

Julian agreed, but that didn’t absolve him.

“What about Parmak?”

“What about him?” Elim said coolly. “He has no say in the method I choose to employ to soothe you.”

“Are you honestly going to sit there and tell me he wouldn’t be hurt by what just transpired between us?”

Garak gave him a hard look.

“Doubtless he would, but I don’t intend on telling him. Do you?”

“No.” Julian shook his head. He’d be telling Ezri because it was the right thing to do, the responsible thing to do, but not… He wouldn’t be able to tell Parmak. If Elim chose to withhold it, that was his business. 

“Then he shall remain blissfully ignorant and unhurt.”

“That seems a bit cold.” Julian said. 

Garak looked at him, honestly bewildered.

“Sparing someone I care deeply about is considered cold? Such strange creatures you humans are.”

Julian fell silent at that and took a sip of his tea. It tasted slightly bitter.

How fitting.

“I’m sorry, Elim.” He said in deep shame. “I keep getting lost in the maze of my own mind. I can’t even tell what’s going on half the time.”

Garak smiled at him affectionately and patted his knee briefly.

“Growing pains, my dear, nothing more.”

If only Julian was just a cutting of some exotic flower that Garak could coax into bloom with ease…

“You really think so?” He muttered hopefully.

“I know so, my dear Julian.”

And in that moment… Julian believed him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First kiss! Did you like it?
> 
> *preparing to be lynched*
> 
> I know, I know! The circumstances aren't ideal, but this finally gets them moving! And that can only be a good thing! :)


	43. You Are Allowed To Change Your Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian notices the attitudes of the Cardassians around him are starting to change slowly. 
> 
> He has an illuminating conversation with Ezri, which brings a previously ignored trauma to light. 
> 
> When he gets back to the shed, he helps Elim with his orchids.
> 
> Julian starts thinking about what happened yesterday and attempts to put things into perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Growing Pains](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190138885686/companion-piece-to-chapter-43-you-are-allowed-to) is the companion piece I composed for this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

The next day, Julian had his hands full. The infirmary was full of children and the elderly, each with respiratory issues. The dust storm yesterday was a particularly bad one. 

Each time he made a child cough, he wondered how Rekat was doing. Was the boy awake? Was he healing nicely? Had Phela been allowed to see him?

As he triaged the patients, treating them all with a kind smile, and the elderly with a deferential little incline of his head, with his eyes to the ground, he noticed something curious. They seemed surprised. It wasn’t an unpleasant or shocked or revolted kind of surprise either, but a warm, accepting kind.

He wondered whether he’d made another blunder, but at this point didn’t want to modify his behavior. He would treat everyone with the same amount of respect, because, as he had told Ghar – he _wasn’t_ Cardassian. The customs and social norms that came naturally to these people would never be _his_ default. However, he could learn. Adapt. 

Once the infirmary emptied and there was finally a lull in the action, he approached Ghar.

She looked at him curiously and waited for his question with polite attentiveness. Her demeanor showed she was more relaxed in his presence, but still had minor reservations. Julian was fine with that.

“Junior Researcher Ghar,” He addressed her with her full title, as was polite, “May I ask a question pertaining to Cardassian customs?”

Her eyes widened a bit, but she schooled her face into a mask of amiability and politeness.

“Of course, Doctor Bashir. I don’t… mind when, hm, foreigners show interest in our culture.”

He caught her discomfort and her split-second consideration not to use the more derogatory term of “alien”. 

“I have noticed the people we treat are… surprised at my bedside manner. Am I doing something wrong?”

Her narrow shoulders dropped a fraction as she relaxed. It was obviously a safe topic of discussion.

“I wouldn’t say you’re doing something wrong, not really. It’s not offensive or anything. It’s just…” She hesitated, clearly trying to gauge his reaction. When he kept his expression neutral, she continued, “You show everyone the same… respect.”

“Shouldn’t I?” He asked, bewildered.

“Well… A Cardassian wouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Julian asked in surprise.

“Because… well…” Ghar seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden. “This place used to be open only for the inhabitants of Coranum, so proper deference was expected… But now, when we take everyone…”

“Now you have patients of lower social status.”

“Yes.” She blinked, clearly discomfited. 

“And you don’t think they are deserving of respect?”

“I do!” She said vehemently, “But not such… such… deference!”

Julian didn’t exactly approve, but he couldn’t judge either. They were used to their class society and now…

“The lines have blurred, haven’t they? You can no longer know who is on your operating table. Patients don’t get vetted before they are admitted, not anymore. Therefore, any child could be either the son of a Gul, or an orphan. Any elderly citizen could be a retired archon or a low level file clerk.”

“Well… we can tell who is important. It’s all in the way they carry themselves.”

“Are you telling me nobody’s demeanor changed after the Fire?”

She sighed at that.

“There’s no use hiding it, I guess. You were right, Doctor Bashir. It has gotten considerably more difficult to discern who is deserving of which courtesy. Your approach, while… not… nuanced, errs on the side of caution.”

“Thank you for answering my question honestly, Junior Researcher Ghar.” He inclined his chin by a fraction, keeping his gaze locked on her. 

“Your gestures are more fluent now, Doctor Bashir.” She gave a small, but encouraging smile.

“I am pleased to hear that. In the future, if I blunder, you have my permission to correct me – immediately if need be.”

Ghar laughed at that. 

“Of course!”

***

He waited for the end of his workday to call Ezri, as he didn’t want to leave it for tomorrow. He had forced himself to do his job impeccably because he’d been appallingly distracted lately and he could tell it was ruining his standing with Zeyem. Julian didn’t want to leave an impression that could suggest a lack of professionalism. 

So, he had swallowed his anxieties, repressed them, locked them up and did his damned job. 

The call was taking its time to connect. Julian knew she usually wasn’t on shift at this time, but rosters change. It was hardly unusual. 

When the screen flickered and her image appeared, he tried to smile, but didn’t quite manage it. 

“Julian? What’s wrong?” Ezri asked with her usual, unaffected concern and Julian felt awful.

_ I’m wrong. _

“Did something bad happen?”

_ Better start at the beginning, then… _ Julian thought bitterly.

He sighed and began to explain.

“The orphan boy who served as my guide when we disembarked was found stabbed. Supposedly, he was trying to barter with someone and… we don’t know the rest. It turns out Garak knows the boy, so we rushed to the hospital where Doctor Parmak works to see how the surgery was going.”

“That’s terrible, Julian! Who would do that to a child?”

“Someone desperate? Or simply vicious? Cardassians consider orphans… well, the lowest class of citizen imaginable. If that. I’m not sure.”

“Is the boy ok?”

“He is, I was allowed to assist in the last leg of the operation and he is going to recover.”

“That’s great!” Ezri said, but noticing his dejected expression, likely realized there was more to the story. “You’re shaken. What happened?”

Julian sighed and buried his face into the palm of his left hand, while his elbow rested on the console.

“Donating blood to people outside of your family is considered a bit of a taboo on Cardassia… There was… resistance to giving the boy more synth blood, since their stores are low and he is not a priority… “

Ezri looked shocked at such callousness.

“Elim just marched in there and demanded they take his blood, even though such a thing is unheard of, and sat there until the end of the surgery, too stubborn to stop…” Julian choked.

“Is… is he ok?” Ezri inquired gently, realizing, obviously, that this was the root of the problem. She’d always been quite perceptive.

“While I was operating, he…” It scared him still and his vision blurred. “He flatlined, Ezri.” Julian finished in a whisper.

She just sat there, shocked into silence.

“He flatlined and there was nothing I could do because his blood was now in the boy I was operating on and I couldn’t let him die!” Julian shouted helplessly. “So I tuned the sound out, I tuned out the sound of my oldest friend dying, so I could make sure the child lived!”

At that he burst into tears, shaking and uncaring that Ezri could see him so weak.

“Garak’s… dead?” She blurted out in disbelief.

Julian felt something cracking inside him, fissures spreading like lightning across the night sky. For a long moment there, in the operating room, he’d been convinced Garak was…

“No… They brought him back… he’s… he’s fine now.” Julian managed to say through the sobs. “I’m sorry Ezri, this was only yesterday and I…”

“You almost lost a friend and a patient, it’s normal to be shaken up.”

Julian nodded and wiped his face in his sleeve.

“I was just so relieved… It all came crashing down and I had a bit of a meltdown. I was so out of it, so tired, Ezri… I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“This might have been triggered by a previous trauma, Julian. Have you considered that?”

Previous trauma? Of losing patients? That did hit hard, but it was nothing he couldn’t compartmentalize away. But losing Garak… 

There was this one time, when his shop exploded and Julian found him injured, but he had never been in any serious danger of dying… 

There was also the infamous incident with the malfunctioning implant, but he had mostly made peace with that one.

Then he recalled the Dominion simulation and there it was – the disruptor blast catching Garak right in the chest, not strong enough to kill immediately, but even worse, giving him a chance to die in Julian’s arms…

_ “Doctor, I'm afraid I won't be able to have lunch with you today.” _

Those were his final words and oh, did they hurt, even now.

“Breathe, Julian, just breathe. Slowly!”

He realized he was hyperventilating. 

“The simulation…” He muttered, more to himself. “I saw him die in the simulation…”

“It’s all right Julian, in!” She commanded and he obeyed. “Now slowly, out.”

He’d been so helpless in that simulation. Even if it was all a lie, he _had_ seen the light go out in Elim’s eyes…

The pain was unimaginable, but now he at least knew where it was coming from. That simulation was something he didn’t know how to deal with even back then, so he’d buried it. Entombed it. And let it rot.

Now he knew why he sought out Garak yesterday, why he clung to him so desperately, why he searched for his pulse with his lips when his overtaxed augmented mind and coordination deserted him. 

“I fell apart yesterday, Ezri. Elim, he… He tried to comfort me.”

“What did he do?” She asked, mildly alarmed.

“He… do you know how parents sometimes pet their children’s hair to calm them down when they’re crying? He… he did that. And he hugged me.”

“Huh. I didn’t know he had it in him.”

“I was so terrified, Ezri, and I didn’t know why, but he made me feel safe… Stupid, right? How could I feel safe in the arms of a man who did awful things in the name of his State, a man who tried to kill most of the senior staff at some point; even me, with that ridiculous genocide attempt… It makes no sense!”

“Why not?” Ezri said. “You have been friends, of a sort, for years. Safety is subjective, Julian. If you didn’t trust him, you wouldn’t feel safe. And if you didn’t trust me, you wouldn’t be sharing this with me.” She said softly. 

“You know I trust you with my life, Ezri.” Julian said earnestly. 

“And you obviously also trust him with it, too. And he you, to some extent.”

That thought was calming.

Still, he hadn’t gotten to his original point. It would be absurdly easy to get out of it now, to finish the conversation like it had been a therapy session, but he wouldn’t lie, because that would be _wrong. _

And he was sick and tired of being wrong. 

“I was very out of it, Ezri… I couldn’t even speak anymore.”

“You were in shock, that is perfectly natural.”

Not to him it wasn’t. He could work past the point of breaking, and had, many times. This was different.

“I felt like I was fading, like I was losing my mind! I have no idea what came over me… He must have thought… I don’t know why he did…”

“Did he do… something strange?” Ezri asked tactfully.

Was it? Strange?

Yes, Julian supposed it was.

“He…” Julian muttered hesitantly, “He kissed me.”

There, it was out now. Julian waited in trepidation for shock, anger, resentment, screaming, anything.

“On… the forehead?”

Julian shook his head.

“The cheek?” Ah, there was the simmering, concealed anger, bubbling up.

“No.” He said and bore the brunt of her piercing gaze.

“Are you telling me that Garak, the spy, the tailor, _that _Garak_; _kissed you, on the lips, while you were completely incoherent and couldn’t defend yourself?” Ezri was close to fuming now, her blue eyes flashing angrily like burning plasma. “And you didn’t stop it?”

“I stopped! I did! I told him it was wrong! And I don’t even know why he did it, he’s dating Parmak!”

“Excuse me?” Ezri said icily.

“Yeah!” Julian huffed. “They’re lovers.”

“You didn’t mention that before.” Ezri said unblinkingly.

“I wasn’t sure before! I didn’t wish to speculate-“

“So, you saw them… together?”

“I saw proof they were… intimate.”

“How intimate?”

“God, Ezri… Don’t remind me, please. Sexually intimate, ok?”

She seemed to consider this for a long moment, then spoke:

“Why would Garak, who is in a relationship, kiss you – who are also in a relationship? He knows enough about human customs not to make a blunder like that.”

“I don’t know why he did it, Ezri… Maybe he did it for the shock value. It did jolt me out of my stupor, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t recommend his methods, Julian, as dubiously effective as they may be.” She said skeptically.

“Yeah…” Julian agreed.

“Are you sure Garak loves this man?”

Julian pondered Elim’s words from last night.

_ “Sparing someone I care deeply about is considered cold? Such strange creatures you humans are.” _

“Yes, Ezri. I am sure. And Parmak would do anything for him. They really seem happy together.”

“Then… it might have been just a way to shock you. Julian,” She warned. “Be careful. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Of course not!” He said indignantly. “It won’t, I promise.”

“My shift started five minutes ago, so I have to leave, but Julian,” Here, her voice softened. “Call me again soon? If you want to talk about that fear some more? You know I’m here for you.”

He knew.

“Thank you Ezri. I love you.”

Her smile was warm.

“I love you too, Julian. Stay safe.”

With that, the line went dark.

***

Today was one of those days he got to walk home because there wasn’t a skimmer available. He set a brisk pace towards Paldar, hoping nobody would stop him if he looked mean enough.

He’d been remarkably lucky with skimmers so far, but he knew his luck would eventually run out again, so today, he got to walk back to Garak’s on his own. He remembered the way, and since the sun was up, it wouldn’t be an issue to navigate back to the shed. 

Julian wondered whether Kelas would be there when he got back. 

He didn’t think he could look the man in the eye. After all, how do you face the person whose partner you’ve kissed? Knowingly or unknowingly, that was infidelity, and Julian, no matter how adventurous, had certain lines he did not cross. 

If he hadn’t been out of his mind yesterday, it never would have happened. 

Why _didn’t_ he stop it?

If he’d been revolted by either the action, or the person, he would have. 

But he _trusted_ Garak. Is that why he allowed it?

He had ended up lying to Ezri regardless, because Julian wasn’t actually the one who stopped anything. Elim did. The compulsion to groan at his own stupidity was great, but he choked it down. 

What would have happened if Elim hadn’t stopped to ask?

It was a disconcerting question he had no answer to, and that was terrifying.

He was relieved when Tolan’s shed came into view. When he came closer, he realized Garak was puttering around his garden again.

Oh. The dust storm yesterday. It hadn’t even occurred to him what might’ve happened to the orchids. 

_ I was too busy falling apart. _

“Hello Elim.” He greeted and knelt next to the gardener. “Are the orchids safe?”

“My dear!” Garak smiled. “I didn’t hear the skimmer today.”

“I walked.”

“Any trouble?” Elim asked as he used a delicate brush to remove the dust from the flowers.

“None, mercifully.”

“As you can see, the orchids have survived. A bit worse for wear, but nothing a little care cannot fix.”

How had he never noticed the care Elim put into everything he did? No task, no matter how humble, was given sub-par effort. 

Ziyal had noticed.

Then again, she’d been in love with Elim. People generally tended to be more aware of those they were attracted to and had feelings for. 

Julian looked at Garak, so engrossed in his work. His focused face did indeed look kind. 

“Would you like to try?” Elim asked, and Julian let out a surprised little gasp. “Here, hold it like this,” Garak said and took hold of Julian’s palm, pushing the handle of the brush into it gently and closing his fingers around it. 

“Hold the bloom with your other hand gently,” Elim instructed and Julian was feeling a bit strange, but complied anyway. “Now slowly, reach in and brush it aside.”

Julian attempted it, but Elim tsked and corrected:

“More assertively, it won’t break.”

Julian felt his cheeks going warmer a fraction. 

“That’s much better, now again.”

After about a dozen passes with his brush, he was starting to get the hang of it. It was kind of relaxing, once you got into the rhythm of it. 

“There! All done!” Elim said fondly and Julian chanced a look.

He wished he hadn’t.

Garak was looking at him in a way that was eerily reminiscent of yesterday and Julian could swear the man’s gaze flickered downwards for a split second, almost like he’d been reminded…

And that was terrible, because it was now all Julian could think about. 

The pressure.

The texture.

_ The taste. _

Oh God, the taste.

Mercifully, Elim chose that moment to get up and dust himself off. Julian followed his example and handed the man his brush back. They both headed for the shed.

Once inside, Elim closed the doors behind them and headed for the workbench.

Julian, as usual, sat on the bed and fished a PADD out of his bag to get some more work done. 

But as soon as he got comfortable, he was transported to yesterday.

The sweet scent.

The smooth scales.

_ The warmth. _

It was utterly maddening. Why was it so hard to stop thinking about it?

He had imploded mentally yesterday precisely because of his bad habit of not facing his traumatic experiences, or any other kind of heavy emotion. Perhaps it was time to break that terrible habit and start facing his issues head-on. 

With resolve already shaken, he looked Elim’s way. The man seemed absorbed in whatever it was he was tinkering with. 

This longer hair looked… unusual. Not in a bad way, though. It wouldn’t stay as tidy as it used to when it was shorter, but the way individual strands escaped and curled around his scales and ridges was… pretty. 

Julian’s pulse quickened. 

_ I can’t stop at the first sign of discomfort… I need to break through whatever this obstacle in my mind is. _

The memory assaulted him again. 

The feeling of complete safety.

The touch of Elim’s hand.

The goosebumps.

He wrenched his attention to the present and observed the tailor’s hands dismantling a device with expert precision. Garak’s fingers weren’t elegant, but their movements were. Fluid, graceful, deliberate.

In his hair.

On his face.

Brushing against his ear.

Julian swallowed. He needed to concentrate. Garak’s ridges were looking paler than usual. 

_ Extending down his arms… _

His chest.

His back.

Julian tried to get his breathing under control, but couldn’t. This wasn’t working.

Why wasn’t it working?

Stubborn and determined, he looked once more. He would figure this out, he had to. 

Garak was humming something as he worked. Since when did the man hum while working?

_ His voice, so soothing… _

His words.

That little moan of appreciation…

Julian was feeling a bit light headed. His blood was pooling somewhere it really _really_ shouldn’t.

_ That’s a natural reaction _ . He tried telling himself. They had been… doing something which could be interpreted as intimate, yesterday. But why was it spilling over into here and now?

_ I’m stuck in the past again… I need to hold my place. _

But what was his place?

_ Ezri _ _ . _ _ My place is with Ezri.  _

He took a deep breath to calm down.

_ Our quarters, our life together. _

This shed.

_ The way she looks at me. _

Elim’s gentle gaze.

_ The way she supports me. _ _ _

Elim’s firm embrace.

_ The way we complement each other. _ _ _

_ The way we complete one another _ .

The way…

Elim was looking at him from across the shed, his face bathed in the warm rays of the afternoon sun.

Julian’s entire being sprang to life. His skin vibrated with electricity, his veins hummed as blood rushed through them, his fingers dug into the firm mattress seeking…

Elim was on his feet, heading his way and Julian stared ahead helplessly – breathlessly.

When his friend sat by his side the way he did yesterday, Julian felt like his heart was going to explode. 

And when Elim smiled at him, knowingly, like he could read his every thought, Julian wanted to close his eyes, but forced them open. He had to be vigilant, had to stop this, whatever it was, whatever it could _become_ and when he faltered and his traitorous eyes sought out Elim’s lips, they were stretching in a cunning way, taunting him. 

Breathing hard, he tore his gaze away and when Elim moved closer, Julian was ready.

He jumped away.

Garak was regarding him curiously and Julian was surprised to note he could actually read the man behind the mask.

It was disappointment.

It was sadness.

“Julian… You are allowed to change your mind.” Elim said cryptically, his mask snapping back in place, but Julian knew.

It was… 

_ Resignation _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is packed full of goodies!  
Is Ghar opening up, just a little?  
Is Ezri satisfied with Julian's explanation?  
Will Julian stop self-sabotaging any time soon?
> 
> Poor Garak, getting his hopes up...


	44. Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian observes as Garak slides into depression.
> 
> He cannot bear it and he decides to ask for advice.
> 
> Ghemor clears up a major misunderstanding and drops a truth bomb on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music composed for this chapter: [Not Allowed to Touch](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190828815081/under-the-blind-moon-ost-this-song-goes)

Everything changed after that night. Julian watched helplessly as the frail equilibrium of their renewed friendship crumbled, bit by bit, every day. 

Elim would still speak to him, but the conversations lacked their usual spark and Julian couldn’t help but wonder what had transpired to change things between them so irrevocably. Unable to figure it out, agonizing over the prospect of losing the man’s kindness and friendship after all this time, Julian found himself sliding into old patterns of drowning in work to compensate for any personal struggles he was experiencing. 

The words gnawed at him, relentless and deadly, their deceptive mildness dissipating as more and more symptoms of the ailment kept cropping up.

“_You are allowed to change your mind.”_

What about? He didn’t know. He could read Elim, but not the meaning behind his words. There was a crucial piece of context missing and he despaired over it. 

This was the third time this week he caught Elim sewing with emerald fabric and stowing it away the moment he got home. The situation was growing untenable, but he was so painfully aware of how ill-equipped he was to deal with it, that he attempted to simply weather it out. 

They could now work, side by side, in absolute silence. It used to be comforting, but it was no longer so. The silence grew thick and heavy, spreading its oppressive shroud over the shed. 

Julian hated it.

This silent Elim was… disconcerting. 

_ Wrong _ .

The man no longer hummed and Julian swore he caught moments of such weariness that Elim’s usually immaculate posture slipped. The sight of those proud shoulders slumped as if in defeat threatened every last ounce of resolve Julian possessed.

He wanted to reach out and ask what was happening, but each time he tried, Garak would deflect, offer no news on Rekat’s assailant, shift the topic of conversation to Julian’s work and let him prattle on for as long as he wished.

Julian lost all taste for prattling.

And at night, when the darkness was thickest, he lay awake on the cot and cast his gaze below, trying to get a glimpse of the man’s back, silhouetted against the black void. 

Each time, his hand would twitch in desire to smooth the strands of jet hair away from the pale back, but the promise he made was a heavy shackle he refused to shake off. 

_ I can’t… I mustn’t encourage anything _ .

So he would turn, lie on his back and stare at the ceiling, praying for dreamless sleep to come swiftly and drag him into a space where his thoughts were less jagged and immediate. 

Each morning, Elim would be gone.

There were no more breakfasts together.

Julian would get dressed for the day in silence and leave for work. 

He would swelter through the day; perform surgery, triage and research. 

Their quarantined patients were starting to die. 

They lost four this week alone. 

And then he would head back home and be greeted by the empty space and grasping shadows. He couldn’t take it, so he left and headed for the Necropolis. He let his feet take him to Elim’s totem, where he stared at the recitation mask and wondered whether he would find the words if he slipped it on. Would Oralius speak through him?

They still hadn’t gone to a single meeting, even though Julian had been requesting it nearly every day for a week. Elim was always too busy. The tired look in the man’s eyes corroborated the story, but Julian had the sinking feeling he was to blame for the anguish he could now see in those blue eyes.

He had wronged Elim somehow and he had no idea what his transgression was, save for the fact it was a grave one. 

In front of him, Elim was shutting down. 

Elim , one of the most composed and controlled people he knew, allowing Julian to see exactly how much he was hurting…

Perhaps it was a punishment.

It wasn’t, though.

It was hell. 

_ This is hell _ . Julian thought, his carefully maintained façade of indifference crumbling in front of the religious icon. 

He needed someone to talk to and Ezri was absolutely out of the question. 

It had to be someone who knew Elim well.

Not Parmak though. Julian wouldn’t be able to face him. 

_ Ghemor _ _ . _

Mind made up, Julian clutched his bag tighter and strode off into the dying light.

He all but ran there, his mind choosing the most unhelpful images imaginable to keep him company on the way.

The delicious dinner they’d shared.

The scintillating conversation over a glass of truly magnificent _kanar_.

Elim’s relaxed state and the soft look in his clear eyes.

_ I can’t go on like this. _

He needed answers and hoped, _prayed_, desperate enough not to care that he didn’t believe in any Gods. Alon would at least hear him out, Julian knew without a doubt. The man was the epitome of reasonableness. 

_ I need to know what I did wrong. _

So he pressed on, nearly running now. His legs carried him faster than usual, his anxiety fuelling the frantic movements.

He all but ran down the stairs to the man’s basement home.

The doors were locked.

He pressed the buzzer, knowing he had no chance of guessing the code. 

Nothing.

He pressed again, insistently – hard - almost like that could make it louder.

Then he waited.

Ten seconds.

Fifteen.

“Ghemor, please… I need to speak with you!” He said out loud, not knowing why. For all he knew, the man wasn’t home and the door’s comm system was broken.

Twenty-five.

“It’s about Elim, it’s important. I wouldn’t be bothering you otherwise.”

Fourty -five.

Still nothing.

He waited in silence, slowly coming to terms that the man likely wasn’t home. And why would he be? He was notoriously busy.

Swallowing down his despair, he placed his palm on the door to brace himself against the rising panic. 

Julian felt trapped. 

He was trapped here.

Garak no longer wanted him here; that much was obvious. It wouldn’t be too farfetched to conclude he had shared whatever bothered him with Ghemor and Parmak, and they were now all turning their backs on him.

“Alon, please!” Julian pleaded. “Five minutes is all I ask!”

“That seems serious.” Ghemor’s voice reached him and Julian nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized the man was standing behind him, likely just having come home only to find an incoherent, rambling human arguing with his front door.

“Come inside, Doctor. I will assist you any way I can.”

At that, Julian moved out of the way so Ghemor could input his code and Julian memorized it without even trying to. It’s not like it mattered. He knew the code was likely to change the moment he left. Alon was nothing if not careful.

Sighing in relief, Julian stepped through. 

As they descended the ramp, Julian tried to figure out how to word his request for clarification. A part of him hoped Ghemor already knew the source of Elim’s distress so Julian would be spared the sheer agony of trying to explain it. 

When he crouched to remove his shoes, he remembered.

Elim’s bare feet.

He shook it off and removed his shoes. He didn’t bother with socks. 

“Come sit with me.” Alon invited as he walked across the soft expanse of carpets and Julian noticed there was now a low table with a few comfortable-looking deep blue armchairs in the middle. Ghemor settled into one of them, eerily similar to the way he was seated during the dinner. Julian followed numbly and sat on the place Garak used to occupy. Even if it was now covered by a chair.

“Now, tell me what’s happened.”

Julian breathed in deeply and fought a shiver. 

“It’s Elim. I’m worried about him.”

“Do you think it is a medical issue from the transfusion?”

“No.” Julian shook his head minutely, only to remember a specific eye movement and a flicker of the hand was the equivalent gesture on Cardassia. Belatedly, he performed it, then continued. “It must be something I’ve done. He’s been… shutting down before my eyes. It scares me.” He said earnestly and locked gazes with Ghemor, willing the man to read the truth of his turmoil from his eyes. 

“Have you tried asking him about it?”

“Of course I have!” Julian exclaimed, concern bleeding through his tone. “He deflects it every time. I don’t know what to do. All I know is that he changed completely ever since…” He couldn’t even say it.

Pathetic.

_ Coward. _

“What preceded that shift in his behavior?” Ghemor asked. 

“It… it was two days after the operation. I came home and we discussed something… personal.”

“And after that discussion, his demeanor changed?”

“Yes.” Julian said listlessly. “I have no idea what I did wrong. I just want things to go back to the way they were – he doesn’t have that spark anymore, when we speak… He hides the suit he’s making for me the moment I step through the door and he slouches. Slouches! Garak! You could usually mold rulers using his spine!”

Ghemor just looked at him with an assessing stare.

“Did he confide in you?” Julian asked in desperation.

“I cannot say he has. Though, to be perfectly frank with you, Doctor Bashir, I likely wouldn’t tell you even if that were the case.”

“That’s fair…” Julian muttered. 

“One of Garak’s many virtues is his ability to keep his secrets. While I have noticed a certain… dullness to his movements, I hadn’t managed to divine its source.”

“Dullness…” Julian whispered. “That’s an apt descriptor. I _hate_ it.” He grasped himself by the forearms. 

“Sometimes, we cause the changes in someone once our own behavior shifts.”

That made sense. Julian was the one who… Pulled back.

Again.

But how could he not!

“I wish I hadn’t seen them together…” He groaned and buried his face in his palms. 

“Seen who together?”

Julian looked at Ghemor incredulously.

“Elim and Parmak, of course. Who else?”

“I don’t understand your meaning, Bashir. Is that some human expression I am unfamiliar with?”

Julian blinked dumbly.

“Uh, yes. It’s a… well, not quite a euphemism, but close enough, I suppose.”

“Euphemism? What for?”

“For a romantic relationship.” Julian said awkwardly. So, Cardassians could be wrong-footed too. 

“Between Kelas and Elim?” Ghemor said in clear surprise, almost like it was an absurdity. 

“Who else??” Julian exclaimed exasperatedly.

“Bashir, I think there has been a misunderstanding.”

“Obviously!” Julian rolled his eyes. “I just wish someone told me what it was so I could clear things up!”

“Elim would never be unfaithful.” Ghemor said seriously, like it was some sacred notion.

Julian blushed fiercely. Well, Elim _had_ been unfaithful, but he’d die before he openly said so to Ghemor.

“Bashir, Elim chose you. He would never dishonor you by carrying a dalliance behind your back.”

“It was hardly behind my back, Ghemor.” He said with narrowed eyes. “They were being horribly unsubtle about it, which surprised me; because I always had the impression Elim was a very discreet man.”

“What did you think you saw, Bashir, that made you jump to that conclusion?”

This angered Julian. 

“What I _think_ I saw?” He said, visibly appalled. 

“Yes. The evidence of this… affair you purport, what is it? You should be aware that this is a serious accusation you’re leveling here.”

“Are you honestly trying to tell me Parmak isn’t utterly besotted with Elim?”

“I never claimed otherwise, Doctor, I merely believe your jealousy is misplaced.”

“I’m not jealous! I have no reason to be jealous! Elim can sleep with whomever he chooses to. I know not even marriage prevents that kind of behavior from some Cardassian spouses, so why would it stop Elim?”

He was unattached, after all.

“That kind of… straying from the norms is considered unacceptable in polite Cardassian society.”

“It didn’t stop him before.” Julian remarked bitterly. 

Palandine had been enjoined with Lokar and Elim carried on with the affair regardless. 

“Listen, Bashir, I don’t know what made you believe that, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that Elim wouldn’t do what you propose. And even Kelas, the enamored fool he is, wouldn’t dare make a move. Anything that may have been between them before you arrived stopped the moment Elim offered you his home. He chose you over Parmak. It is definitive and every Cardassian above the age of six knows what a serious matter that is. Kelas may long for Elim as much as he wants, but even he knows he no longer stands a chance and he would never tarnish himself or the man he cares for by making a move at this point.”

Julian sat there with his mouth open, uncomprehending. 

“Could you repeat that?” Julian stammered.

Ghemor sighed.

“Even a blind man can see how devoted Elim is to you. I’ve never seen him more care-free. He’d always been reserved, and glimpses into his soul were precious and few. As soon as you arrived, he was suddenly open, his every emotion readily discernible. That celebratory dinner merely confirmed it for everyone involved.”

Impossible.

Ghemor’s words made no sense.

“You… You are trying to tell me there’s nothing between them? That they aren’t… lovers?”

“Most definitely not. I don’t think they ever were. I think Kelas planned for more, but it didn’t go the way he desired.”

What a fool he’d made of himself if this was true!

If it was, then…

That would make him the only one who’d been unfaithful.

His indignation and anger evaporated without a trace, leaving behind a deep, lasting sense of shame. 

“Elim loves you as deeply as a Cardassian is capable of, and contrary to what non-Cardassians may think –it is an emotion more profound than they could ever imagine.”

Julian’s eyes were wide as he stared at Ghemor.

It couldn’t be.

It made no sense.

Then…

All the teasing, all the bickering, all the wicked smiles and innuendos…

_ All those times he looked at me fondly… _

Elim loved him. 

His brain froze completely.

Every touch they ever shared was screeching past him in his mind, leaving burning tire tracks like one of Bond’s spy cars as they careened off a cliff. 

How far did it go?

When did it start?

“Does this resolve your dilemma, Doctor?” Ghemor inquired with rigid dignity and Julian nodded absently. 

“Yes… You’ve been incredibly helpful.” Julian inclined his head and averted his eyes for a long moment to indicate his respect and deep appreciation. 

“It’s gratifying to see you adapting so naturally to our gestures, Bashir.” Ghemor said in a kinder tone. “I am sure Elim appreciates it as well.”

“I owe him that much.” Julian said sincerely. “All these years… I never noticed how much of his natural behavior he modified for my sake, to make me comfortable. He adapted to my human mannerisms with such skill and ease, I didn’t even notice…” He sighed deeply.

He was such a fool. 

“He was trained for it, don’t take your lack of awareness to heart.”

Julian smiled gratefully.

“I should go and… hopefully Elim will be home when I return.”

“Resolve this, Bashir. There’s no reason either of you should suffer unnecessarily.”

“I’ll try.” Julian vowed solemnly, even as he knew full well it would be a daunting prospect, because… If Elim had been acting on his feelings since Julian arrived, that would make the ensuing conversation an awful and gut-wrenching prospect.

Julian was struck by a terrible thought.

Had he ever even told Elim he and Ezri were dating?

He thought the man knew, the way he seemed to know everything else, but Julian realized with an awful lurch in his stomach, that he had never actually told him.

This meant that everything that happened was…

_ My fault _ .

He left Ghemor’s in a daze. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More foreshadowing, more pain... 
> 
> But Julian is desperate to fix things!! 
> 
> Speculate on Ghemor's words, please, I beg you! XD And keep in mind - he is probably every bit as devious as Garak, but he never needed to be a covert operative, so he seems way less shady.


	45. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian confronts Elim about Parmak.
> 
> They clear up the misunderstanding and then Elim asks for something Julian isn't able to refuse.

Julian stumbled back to the shed, mulling everything over in his mind.

It still hadn’t all sunk in properly. 

And how could it? 

He felt like someone had kidnapped him and dropped him off on a deserted, unfamiliar planet. All foundation was just… gone. The ground beneath his feet – stripped away, the crutch he’d been holding on to – broken. 

By not writing Elim about Ezri, which was by accident entirely and not by design, he had doomed them to this… strange limbo. 

Ghemor claimed Elim loved him. 

He didn’t want to believe it.

Elim?

The very definition of self-control and mystery?

In love?

With Julian?

That was the absurd part of it all.

He wanted to scoff at the notion, laugh in its face and dismiss it outright as a grotesque impossibility. 

If not for that niggling feeling, struggling for dominance from a walled-off corner of his mind, whispering insidiously:

_ You knew he’d been flirting… You knew. _

So what if he knew? It was just a joke most of the time, a way for Garak to keep his conversational skills sharp and get the extra kick of flustering him. That was all it was.

Wasn’t it?

_ Since when did Garak not do exactly what he intended to do? _

Yes. His intent was to cause mayhem and make Julian uncomfortable. 

_ Why would he do that? The way he looks at you means something. _

It meant he was being more devious than usual, that’s what!

_ Really? _ The sly voice dripped venom in his mind. _Then why can you read his every emotion?_

He’d never been able to read Elim with anything approaching accuracy. The man’s masks were impeccable.

_ When was the last time you saw one, then? _

Julian knew exactly when he’d last seen one. 

_ “You are allowed to change your mind.” _

It had been a brave face. A way to hide his pain. And Elim failed to bring it back up seamlessly, because too many things bled through.

All of this began because Julian…

_ I jumped away when he tried to lean in for… _

Garak had been self-destructing before his very eyes this entire week, and only now did Julian realize why.

_ He wanted to get close to me and I pushed him away.  _

Julian felt the shackle of his promise keenly. It weighed heavily on his limbs.

_ I promised. _

Ezri didn’t deserve this. She was blameless. 

_ I keep my promises _ . Julian reminded himself.

But his limbs weren’t the only things weighing him down. 

_ I have to resolve this.  _

Julian had changed from that man who could do nothing but watch in silence as Garak tried to vent himself into space. 

He couldn’t bear to stand by and do nothing any longer. 

_ I promised myself I would be what he wanted if he needed it. _

The conflicting promises warred in his mind, clashing relentlessly and creating a din of utter chaos. He didn’t know how to reconcile the two.

_ I need to clear this up or it will kill me _ .

It was a melodramatic thought, but he felt it to be true in every phantom pain lancing through him. 

_ Death by a thousand cuts _ .

He felt like he’d been dying a long time now, without even realizing it. 

Doctors truly made the worst patients.

When he saw the light was on, he sprinted the rest of the way.

All but wrenching the door away, he cast his gaze around desperately for the man. 

When their eyes met, Julian allowed everything he felt to lay there on the surface for Elim to find. 

_ Please. See it.  _

But Elim seemed to shrink in on himself, almost like he had no strength left to keep standing and turned away.

He was gripping the emerald fabric and Julian could see the shape of an intricately tailored jacket before Elim’s hands shook and he flipped the tarp over it like it was unbearable to keep touching it or even looking at it. 

“Elim… We need to talk.”

Garak kept his back turned and Julian swore the man went as rigid and as still as a stone at those words. 

“I would prefer not to.” Garak squeezed out, almost like the words were blades slicing through his throat on their way out.

“We have to!” Julian entreated. “I can’t keep watching you like this!”

“Then leave.” Garak whispered, as if more to himself.

Julian expected the tailor to continue with something along the lines of: “Like you always do,” or, “That’s what you’re good at,” but there was nothing. 

Julian felt an anguish so deep it stole his breath, sapped his vigor and stripped him to the bone. A wounded Elim would usually lash out and lay into you with such cutting remarks you were reduced to ribbons, but now… not even that much. 

“Elim, please!” Julian begged. The sound was alien to his ears, but it was unmistakable. He was well and truly begging, and his voice was shaking. “It was all a big misunderstanding!” He cried, wishing desperately for Elim to turn around and his hands reached out for the closed-off figure sitting on that stool. Julian’s hands draped over the pale ridges adorning the man’s neck and he stood close enough to notice every tiny tremor in that usually steady frame. 

“I should have known.” Garak said bitterly.

“Elim,” Julian insisted. “You don’t have to keep doing this to yourself. I know now that there is nothing between you and Kelas!”

At that, Elim sprang to his feet, wrenching himself violently out of Julian’s tentative grasp.

Scared at the sudden murderous energy he could detect, Julian babbled on.

“I always thought you were a very discreet and private man, so when I saw Parmak opening that door – disheveled, rumpled… Remarking on how I was home early, and you – half-unclothed, mocking me, selling me that cock and bull story of a ripped seam, when you just probably ripped it when you and him… I… I was shocked.”

Elim’s face went from murderous to cold and calculating. 

“You assumed I was… a philanderer. How highly you think of me.” There was too much real indignation in that sarcastic phrase.

“I’m sorry!” Julian pleaded, “It didn’t stop you with Palandine and… Why would it stop you now?”

Any light left in Elim’s usually clear gaze flickered and died. 

He went completely unresponsive.

Julian cursed himself for his tactlessness. This sounded like Julian held it against him, when it was actually nothing but an afterthought used to ease his own guilty conscience.

“Did our time here… mean nothing to you?” Elim asked in the flattest tone imaginable. Julian never knew the man could even sound like this. It was…

_ Soulless.  _

_ Detached. _

_ Empty. _

“How can you say that?” Julian cried out, beginning to tremble. “It meant _everything_!” 

Garak closed his eyes and Julian saw him making a valiant effort to pick himself up and muster at least some dignity.

“How long have you been operating under this… misapprehension?” Elim asked, still visibly shaken, but trying to cover it with an angry glare. 

“Since… since I came.” Julian said, unable to be anything but completely honest. “I wasn’t sure, of course, what with your circumspect, ambiguous Cardassian ways, but I suspected… Your letter, Elim, you…” Julian trailed off, desperately trying to find the right words, but knowing he would have to settle for the truth. He had no ability to make up palatable, beautiful lies like Elim could. He’d always been such a… _blunt_ instrument. 

“You kept comparing him to me… All the time… I could see you were getting closer, cared for one another and… It cut in places I didn’t expect. I felt… replaced, supplanted. I felt like back then, with the changeling, when nobody noticed that _thing_ wasn’t me.” Here, he shuddered and felt his eyes growing wet. He plowed on.

“Everyone kept telling me they liked that version of me better… could you imagine how that feels, Elim? Being told you would be so much better if you weren’t you anymore? If-”

“I have some idea.” Garak deadpanned. 

Julian realized… Yes. Elim knew exactly what that felt like. All his life he’d been pulled away from what he was so he could be something people around him found more acceptable. At that, Julian started crying in earnest.

“I’m sorry, Elim, even now I say such thoughtlessly cruel things. Of course you know, you’ve lived it all your life. What you were had never been good enough for Mila… or Tain. You were expected to bury your emotions, to live in opposition to what you desired most and… Palandine… She made you feel alive and brought out something you’ve long tried to suppress. She proved to you that you still had a heart, that you were not just a tool for other people’s convenience and plans. She _saw_ you. Just like…” 

Julian’s breaths were shallow and quick.

“Just like you… saw… _me_.”

And how, _how_ does one remain unaffected by such a profound thing?

“And nobody ever saw _me_, Elim! My parents saw a way to increase their status and brag about their _brilliant_ son who was a _doctor_, so fucking _noble _and _accomplished_! Me? I’m a husk! A child they replaced when the one they got no longer suited them! Who wanted a slow learner, a weakling, a… a _retard_?” He was gasping and whimpering, but couldn’t stop.

“My peers saw me as a threat. They never treated me like I was one of them, almost like they could _sense_ I was off - _abnormal_! So I hid myself, my mind, my true capability… I shackled myself to put the people around me at ease because I wanted so _badly _to be accepted that I relinquished the last part of me I actually liked!”

Julian sobbed and grabbed Elim’s shoulders not to fall to pieces.

“I started to hate what made me different. I started to hate my superior intellect and my reflexes and poured everything into making myself _useful_. I was a tool, Elim! I let myself and everyone around me turn me into an instrument and I comforted myself with the thought that, at least, I was an instrument for good! I was healing people! I was _useful_!”

His palms were shaking as he took Elim’s face into his hands, feeling the contours of his descending ear ridges on his skin.

“Aren’t we… the same? That’s what you were trying to say in your letter, wasn’t it?”

Garak was looking at him in a way Julian couldn’t fathom. The emotion was too complex, too deep to even begin to grasp. Just like Ghemor said. 

Julian brought himself closer and leaned his forehead against Elim’s. He needed to feel it.

“Was I wrong?” Julian’s lips trembled with unsuppressed emotion. “Am I _wrong_?”

If Elim told him he was, he felt he would fly apart and never reassemble again.

Silence stretched on and Julian’s heart was beating uncomfortably in his chest.

Everything hurt.

The spoken.

The unspoken.

The in-between.

He screwed his eyes shut painfully and held his breath, feeling like his life might escape with the next exhale if he wasn’t careful.

“You aren’t wrong…” Elim whispered. “I certainly never saw anything wrong with you, my dear.”

The softness in that voice broke him and as he breathed out in a rush of despair and relief and sheer unadulterated _agony_, Julian held Elim tighter.

“And there was never anything wrong with you either, Elim… It’s the world that was wrong.” He said earnestly and felt a long-sustained knot in his chest dissolving. 

This was…

It felt like…

_ Forgiveness _ .

“I forgive you, Elim. Survival asks no permission. You survived. It’s as simple as that.”

He couldn’t see, but he felt the subtle pull of Elim’s cheeks.

Even with eyes closed, he could see the gentle smile – warming his unworthy presence.

_ No. _

_ If we are both the same, then…  _

_ We are both worthy. _

And Julian felt a surge of something unfamiliar and unbearably warm welling up and overflowing from inside. His inner landscape shifted, expanded, grew and blossomed. The endless plain came to life under a softly twinkling Cardassian sky, bathed and blessed by the light of its trinity of moons. And only in his inner landscape did the Blind Moon shine so resplendently. 

He felt like a slave released from bondage. 

“How intoxicating it would be, for all our shackles to be self-imposed.” Elim recited in solemn exultation and Julian recognized the quote immediately.

It was a line from the Never-Ending Sacrifice. 

One he hadn’t had the capacity to understand back then. It was during a conversation a Legate had with his aide. They’d been discussing their duty to the State, but Julian could see the subtext now. 

How fitting and beautiful the response was.

“Then I shall dream of a strong Cardassia...” Julian answered, feeling the full importance of that exchange at last.

For only within a strong and stable Cardassia, were her subjects free of their duty.

Only after all her enemies were defeated and all her problems solved… 

Julian used to see in it a statement that one could never be done with duty, because it was eternal, but now, he could see the plea for freedom beneath it – sent out into the void – a need to be released from the never-ending sacrifice so one could simply… _be_.

“I understand now, Elim.” Julian said joyfully, opening his eyes to communicate his ebullience. “I finally understand!”

“Yes,” Elim said. “I believe that you do.”

Julian gave a gusty laugh. 

“I feel like I could do anything right now… Is that strange?”

“No…” Elim said warmly, “It’s not strange at all.”

“Can you forgive me, Elim? For jumping to conclusions?”

The look in those clear blue eyes was kind.

“You’ve never been able to do anything I couldn’t forgive you for, and this is no exception.”

Julian felt humbled beyond belief.

“Julian…” Elim said quietly, making his heart race.

There was a question in those eyes; it lurked in the corners of the man’s lips, timid and unexpressed. 

“May I kiss you?” Elim whispered and Julian, oh, how he wanted to say no, but his body was already disobeying and engaging in the ritualistic gesture of its own volition, entirely irrespective of his feeble internal protestations; raising his chin in a little undulating motion which was the equivalent of a Cardassian yes and then, both faster and slower than he expected or wanted, he could taste Elim again. Electric currents raced down his lips, dissipating and spreading; their impulses racing across his nerve endings.

It was the taste of petrichor, the ghostly light at the bottom of a cup of red leaf tea and the smell of the resplendent Blind Moon, shining on his darkened plain.

If Elim needed this, Julian would give.

Anything.

_ Everything. _

And when they separated, Julian’s lips tingling and heart thrumming, the words spilled out of him like an unbreakable vow, voiced by a part of him that ran on instinct alone.

And for the first time, he felt what it was like to have a soul.

“I offer you… my blood… _and_ _bone_.”

_ _

_ Everything. _

_ _

Elim shuddered in his arms and embraced him.

Julian knew the main issue wasn’t resolved, but he didn’t care. 

It could wait.

The whole world could wait while he basked in this feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julian is cracking under the pressure! 
> 
> Sorry for the slow burn everyone, but I am trying to satisfy everyone here - the boys have wrested the control from me and decided to hurry this along... 
> 
> Soon. Very soon. Fluff and love are coming!


	46. Regaining Equilibrium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian slowly mends his relationship with Elim.
> 
> We find out more about the way his patients view him.

The next several days were a steady return to a state of equilibrium. Elim stopped hiding his suit like a dirty secret, but instead would stash it away gently with an enigmatic smile.

It was ridiculously endearing. 

They would chat in the mornings over tea and Julian could feel something mending in him every time Elim smiled at him. 

Even when the subject was awful, like the fact the person who harmed Rekat slipped through the cracks by likely running away from Prime, Elim didn’t revert into that disconcerting state. If anything, he was now… sweeter than he was before. There was warmth apparent in every gaze, gesture and word. 

Julian felt like he was the only person in the universe privileged enough to see it and he loved it.

Still, an awful thought remained.

He still hadn’t told Elim about Ezri. 

Nor the inverse.

He didn’t know how to do either.

Elim was still a bit frail and Julian was determined to handle him with care, which consisted of gentle palm presses, making sure Elim was always bundled up well for the night, and, more than once to slip next to the man to sleep. This seemed to comfort the Cardassian more than any words Julian said. For all of his reservations, distance and walls, Elim was a surprisingly tactile creature – affectionate and even, dare Julian think it, tender.

It was strange at first, but Julian marveled at how fast he got used to it. 

Elim had gotten him through the worst personal and emotional upheaval, and the least Julian could do is open up to the man’s tenderness. His dreams were filled with the soothing smell of Elim’s hair and his mornings were comfortable, wrapped in the man’s embrace. 

As long as Elim needed him, he wouldn’t break his heart.

Or Ezri’s, for that matter.

This was fine, for now. 

Or so he kept telling himself. 

***

“You seem in a good mood today, little Bashir.” Zeyem stated and Julian smiled at her over his console.

“I suppose I am!” He said, sounding rather revoltingly chipper for Cardassian tastes, but he didn’t care. 

Zeyem chuckled.

“Bliss in the nest, I suppose.” She gave a long suffering sigh and Julian didn’t want to push his luck by asking for a clarification. 

“Go help at the infirmary, Ghar has her hands full.”

Recognizing a clear dismissal when he heard one, he gave her a cheeky grin and headed for the infirmary with a spring in his step. 

He greeted Ghar in a friendlier manner than usual and approached her to see what needed to be done. 

Together, they set a dislocated shoulder, mended a little boy’s broken arm and took care of some patients who needed nothing more than some supplements and immune-boosters. 

Once the infirmary emptied out around 16:00 hours, Ghar gave him a bemused smile. 

“Word has gotten out, Doctor Bashir.” She said with a daring little glint in her eyes, which was quite uncharacteristic for her. 

“Word about what?”

She gave a girlish giggle and said:

“About us having a very respectable human doctor here who treats everyone like royalty!”

He looked at her in utter bewilderment.

“Excuse me?”

“You have noticed many people today came with no real medical need, haven’t you?”

“I have, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Cardassians dislike wasting other people’s time, Bashir.” She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I still don’t understand.” He reiterated. 

“They came here just to see you, Bashir, because they were curious!” Ghar said enthusiastically.

“Uh…” Julian muttered, not knowing what to say.

“It’s a good thing.” She said kindly. “That means word of mouth has been working in your favor, because these were people we haven’t treated before.”

“Well, if they aren’t uncomfortable in my presence, I guess that’s good enough for me.” Julian said with a smile. 

“I never thought I’d see such a thing, Bashir. We are raised to be wary of other species or to outright dismiss them as savages… You… well,” Here she hesitated a bit but finished her sentence regardless. “You proved us all wrong. You were respectful, kind and competent. If you spoke Kardassi, I’m pretty sure there would be a line of people at our doors, trying to court you!”

Julian laughed despite feeling slightly uncomfortable by the praise. 

“Well, I am taken, so they wouldn’t have any luck.” He said lightly, even though it left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

He guessed he could still feel this morning’s dose of _choban_.

“Good thing, too! That might be the only thing deterring the mob!”

He wanted to ask why the mob would be deterred by something they didn’t even know, when Trengem burst through the door with a critically injured patient and Julian ran to assist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet.
> 
> Speculation always welcome! :)


	47. Meeting of The Oralian Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elim finally invites Julian to a meeting of the Oralian Way.
> 
> Julian immerses himself in the atmosphere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of excerpts from ASIT here! As always, they are italicized and under quotation marks, for your convenience. I also use it to frame memories, so certain bits of previous dialogue may appear in this form as well.

Julian was beat. Utterly exhausted.

He flopped onto the cot gracelessly and slung an arm over his eyes. 

“Another operation?” Elim inquired gently and Julian groaned.

“Three in a row – skimmer accident. The helm gave out mid flight and they crashed at the northern edge of Coranum.”

“How many wounded?” Garak asked.

“Seven. One got through it with nothing but scrapes and bruises, but the rest weren’t so lucky.”

“Any casualties?”

Julian sighed.

“The pilot. I tried saving him, but his heart gave out in the middle of the operation and I suggested an artificial one, but Zeyem deemed his head trauma too severe. He never would have made it.”

“You did your best, my dear. No one could ask for more.”

“I turned into Mr. Popular, Elim. I keep getting little gifts from my patients. In the Federation, that would be kind of inappropriate.”

Elim laughed.

“Word must have gotten out,” The tailor remarked mischievously.

“Oh yes,” Julian said sarcastically. “Ghar keeps telling me there would be a whole line of people just waiting to court me if only I spoke Kardassi.”

“They would be disappointed.” Elim said wryly.

“Of course they would, my Kardassi sounds like someone is skinning some poor animal alive.”

Garak laughed.

“You hardly even tried, my dear.” Elim chided him, “At least you make a fine dying honge impersonation! It could serve as a good party trick.”

Julian groaned and grabbed the pillow to toss it at Garak, who caught it effortlessly.

“Not everyone is ridiculously talented like you, Elim!” Julian groused. “How many languages do you even know?”

Elim just grinned in his old, devious manner and said:

“That would be telling. I must reserve some mystique so you don’t leave me when a supple young thing with shiny purple hair comes your way…”

“You say purple hair and all I can see is Zeyem, please stop! You’ll give me nightmares…”

“She is a spitfire, isn’t she? Looks remarkably young, too, though I wouldn’t tell her that if I were you. Cardassian women take offense at that.”

“What? “

“It’s the inverse with your species, I’m aware... Our ideal is older and wiser, not pretty and shallow.” Elim said while looking at him significantly, smirking all the while.

“Oh, so… if I have to produce a number…”

“Aim for five years higher. That’s usually enough to appease their vanity.”

“Noted.” Julian said, bemused. 

“I hope you are not too tired, my dear, because I was hoping we might attend a meeting together. You _have_ been asking for it a while now.”

“We’re going to The Oralian Way? Yes! I want to go!” Julian bolted upright in excitement. 

“Your enthusiasm is appreciated, but I don’t wish to tire you out unnecessarily.” Elim looked at him shrewdly, knowing he was truly exhausted. 

“I am not an invalid, Elim. Besides, a walk would be nice.” Julian got up with a slight yawn. 

“Only if you are sure, my dear.” The man said kindly and Julian wanted to touch his cheek, but refrained. 

He’d been dodging Elim’s subtle attempts at kissing him since the last time, and substituting them with less risky touches, which seemed to please Garak enough to seem unbothered by the fact Julian was avoiding his lips. Still, each time Elim’s nose would brush against his cheek, or his ear, it created a sort of cascade failure in Julian’s overtaxed brain. He’d remember.

The soft brush of fingers against the shell of his ear.

The touch of Elim’s calloused hands against his ribs.

_ The alluring, addictive taste of… _

Still, he resisted. Repeatedly. Successfully.

The pull was there, though, and he could no longer deny it.

The captivation of a certain kind of gaze Elim would level him with, which was almost hypnotic and definitely magnetic in nature, tugged at him persistently, like an inconvenient itch you weren’t allowed to scratch.

Each time he entertained the thought, he’d scold himself sternly. He wasn’t allowed to kiss Elim.

_ Garak. _ _ _

He wasn’t allowed.

_ I promised. _

That didn’t stop his mind from replaying and reliving it at the most inopportune of times. The thoughts were invasive and impossible to weed out – they kept cropping up like an infection you were sure you’ve successfully treated, only for it to come back stronger than before and immune to your treatments. The feel of Elim’s lips was never far from his mind.

It was pure torture. 

“Then we should head there now, so we don’t have to rush.” 

“Of course, Elim.” Julian said with a soft sigh and followed him out. 

***

The walk was long, but enjoyable. Elim was in quite a delighted mood, and he kept offering Julian tidbits of interesting information regarding the buildings or the people they passed. Julian tried to pay attention, he really did, but Ghemor’s words kept echoing in his mind with the persistence of a bad case of tinnitus. 

_ “Elim loves you as deeply as a Cardassian is capable of, and contrary to what non-Cardassians may think – it is an emotion more profound than they could ever imagine.” _

Could it be true? Did Elim…

Just thinking the words was hard. 

His heart was racing again. 

The look on Elim’s animated face as he recounted some interesting anecdote from his younger years transformed his features into something lovely. 

Julian tried to tear his eyes away, but failed. 

Since when did he think of Elim as lovely?

How did that happen?

And why was it wrong to even think it?

_ I promised _ .

That was true, he’d promised. And he’d kept that promise, except for that single time…

That single time he couldn’t avoid.

Elim needed it. 

That’s why.

_ I did it only because Elim needed it. _

_ I kept my promise. _

_ I’m still safe… _

“Ah, dear Doctor, we are almost there.” Elim said in a pleased way and Julian shook his straying thoughts away. 

He’d been looking forward to the ceremony for a long time now and he didn’t want his distractions to detract from the experience. 

They stopped in front of a ruined corner building somewhere in the Torr Sector and went round back to the entrance. Garak gave him a long, soft look of encouragement and headed down the stairs. Were it not for other people behind them, Julian was sure he’d have had a harder time peeling his eyes away from the man’s neck and the way the jet strands curled ever so gently across his scales. 

Once at the bottom of the stairs, they headed left, into a room Garak had described in his letter. 

It was a cavernous basement room, filled with chairs (significantly more than 25 now) and it was currently nearly filled to capacity. The slightly raised dais was still there, with its table and the decoration behind it, wearing the semblance of the winged creature with the recitation mask. There was something deeply mysterious and significant about it and he couldn’t help but wonder whether that was the reason why Elim was so drawn to this place. 

They both searched for meaning, even if the places they went to do so were vastly different.

Julian had always searched for meaning in his work, because it was rewarding to know he’d made a difference. Garak had felt similarly about his work once upon a time…

Except…

Interrogating people could never be as rewarding. It certainly didn’t leave Garak feeling any better. He had tortured Dukat’s father and his thoughts after it was done were:

_ “No matter how objective I tried to remain, I could never remain totally unaffected by another man’s horror. Fear was a contagious disease.“ _

Julian fed on joy over recovery and healing, while Garak was left with a… dubious feeling of potential accomplishment, at best. The man never knew what his information would be used for, down the line. 

And what kind of person can you become when you feed on nothing but misery?

Of course Elim loved Palandine. She was the only thing made of pure light he had. It only made sense he would cling to her with a kind of desperation. 

Tolan’s caring words drifted into Julian’s mind’s eye. The man had been dying as he said them.

_ “Oh, my dear Elim. _ _ The soul of a poet, and look at you… your closed face…all those secrets… Too many secrets… it’s like poison. Too many secrets poison the soul.” _

Tain had done this to Elim. Poisoned him with secrets. Contaminated the well of his soul.

Spread the disease further.

Made Elim into a carrier.

_ Despicable. _

_ “Fear and isolation, Doctor. _ _ You can’t have one without the other. Fear isolates and isolation is fear’s natural home. Just as my orchids need carefully prepared soil to protect them against disease and pests, fear needs the isolated circumstances to deepen and grow without connective or relational interference. When fear is allowed to flourish in its dark and lonely medium, then any evil that can be conceived by the fearful imagination will emerge.” _

_ _

And it had, hadn’t it?

Elim was afraid of losing his soul, of never forging a stable connection with another. 

It broke Julian’s heart.

_ He’d lost everyone he ever loved…  _

There was a sense of deep loss, rooted in his chest. He could still recall, with perfect clarity, the soul-crushing keen Elim let out as he cried over Ziyal. 

And he didn’t even love her romantically.

What would happen if Palandine showed up?

Perhaps Ghemor was mistaken in his assessment that Garak loved him and that he decided not to pursue a relationship with Parmak when Julian arrived… What an awful misunderstanding, on both sides! 

Garak thought Julian came to… What? Seduce him?

Julian felt a gentle nudge and startled out of his thoughts. Elim was guiding him to some empty chairs in the back and he allowed it. 

_ I should tell him. I should just tell him I’m dating Ezri, so he could go back to Parmak… _

But Elim could have chosen Kelas, despite this unfortunate misunderstanding.

_ Why… Why choose me?  _

It made no sense. 

_ I offer nothing. _

“It’s starting soon, my dear.” Garak spoke softly.

Julian inclined his head in understanding and watched a smile bloom on Elim’s face.

_ He likes it when I imitate his customs… _

If it made him happy, Julian would oblige. It was, after all, such a simple thing.

Settling in his chair, Julian looked around. 

The hall was pretty full. Even now, a few people were trickling in and Julian noticed some would be forced to stand. He guessed more people could afford to come now that the group wasn’t outlawed anymore. 

Or there wasn’t anyone left who had jurisdiction to sanction them. After all, the Obsidian Order was no more. 

He was the only alien face in the crowd. The shuttle ride to Cardassia came to mind and he wondered how many hostile looks he’d missed while lost in his ruminations. When he looked around, those who were looking at him, seemed… more curious than anything else. 

Perhaps these Cardassians were… more open to outsiders. They would have to be, if they truly followed the teachings of Oralius. 

Curiously, he felt like he was in the right place. There was a part of him that had been deeply impatient and overwhelmingly eager to come here and participate in the strange ritual which enraptured Elim’s soul so long ago. Could he be touched in a similar way, even if he wasn’t a believer or a Cardassian? 

Could a soulless creature experience this collective awakening?

Was there enough of him left to be receptive to it?

He looked ahead and noticed the ritual was beginning – unfolding exactly the way Elim had described in his letter. Two Cardassians, a man and a woman were stepping up to the podium, each picking up a recitation mask and holding it in their hands for a long moment, as if studying its expression. Julian knew exactly what they would do before they did it and observed, breathless, as they looked at each other, nodded and fastened the masks to their faces. 

An interminable moment spent studying one another. 

There was so much significance in the simplest of things. 

Looking at another with meaning. Such a beautiful thing.

Julian wanted to experience it the way it was meant to be experienced. 

In native Kardassi.

Ever so subtly, he feigned he was scratching his neck and turned his Universal Translator off.

The faintest, almost subliminal hum disappeared and he was immersed into the unfiltered existence of Cardassia.

His eyes were glued to the two people on the dais, who were now turned to the crowd at the edge of the dais, where they stood poised yet relaxed, looking over the crowd and taking their time to acknowledge every person in the room. When the woman’s eyes found him, he shivered. 

_ There is another,  _ Julian thought, _Another__ who sees my fractured self._

He tried not to shrink away under that gaze. This wasn’t a tribunal and he wasn’t being judged. Or so he hoped.

It was a terrifying thought precisely because he knew he would be found wanting. 

As he always had been, thus far. 

_ I was never good enough. _

_ Not for my parents… Or my peers… _

_ Or my girlfriends. _ _ _

_ _

He half-turned to Elim, who caught his eye and smiled.

The warmth in those eyes shattered him. 

And then the voices spoke.

Oh how majestic they were.

Julian watched the two figures, mesmerized by the resonance of their voices and the way it carried through a room full of people. It shouldn’t be possible, acoustically, but it was happening regardless. The woman’s gentle, lilting voice was entrancing, and the words flowed like a river and spilled over the crowd like the rays of a bright Cardassian dawn, stealing his breath completely. 

He understood nothing, but he already knew the words, because he remembered the translation Elim had sent him.

_ “The power that moves through me _

_ Animates my life _

_ Animates the mask of Oralius _

_ To speak her words with my voice _

_ To think her thoughts with my mind _

_ To feel her love with my heart: _

_ It is the song of morning _

_ Opening up to life _

_ Bringing the truth of her wisdom _

_ To those who live in the shadow of the night.” _ _ _

Just thinking about the translation felt blasphemous, because the original was so…_hauntingly _beautiful. The rhythm of the words and the enunciation… the delicate yet powerful vocalizations of their exotic consonants and vowels… they flowed all around them, unbroken, like a gloriously luminous ocean of photons. 

He could imagine it, being immersed in deep, dark water – weightless, suspended, expectant. All around him flecks of light, shining in the darkness like beacons to guide him to the surface. The water was safe, but below him, there was only darkness and he was wary of it. 

Weary. 

What could it cost him to reach for the lights? To pick one as his destination and swim towards it?

Once the woman’s voice ended, its final cadence echoing in his being, the man’s voice joined the unbroken thread of meaning, weaving into the tapestry his counterpart presented, adding an entirely new layer of meaning.

_ “It is this selfsame power _

_ Turned against creation _

_ Turned against my friend-“ _

Julian could grasp in the language the pain and devastation of the concept and as the words continued, he struggled to breathe, locked by the sea which was now exerting its full pressure on his frail body.

_ “-That can destroy his body with my hand _

_ Reduce his spirit with my hate _

_ Separate his presence from my home… ” _

Julian was fighting for oxygen, trapped beneath the waves, clawing his way towards the surface, faster and faster and ever more desperate and when he broke the surface, following a muted, but strong pinprick of light above him, he-

_ “To live without Oralius _

_ Lighting our way to the source _

_ Connecting us to the mystery _

_ Is to live without the tendrils of love.” _ _ _

-was suddenly floating on the surface of an endless ocean, breathing greedily and deeply as his eyes searched for his guiding light. He was staring at an endless starry sky and there it was, before him, his compass, his true North…

The Blind Moon.

Pale and radiant.

Julian could see it, as clearly as he could see the two speakers receding towards the table and removing their masks, acknowledging each other respectfully.

Tears were streaming down his face and neck in unbroken silence, but he barely paid them any mind. They were just there.

How could he care about that when his whole world was shifting and tilting on its axis?

He needed the ritual to continue, because he remembered what came next.

The music.

The unity.

_ The healing. _ _ _

And there it was, as if on cue to soothe his raw nerves and the fraying fabric of his being, the simple melody, drifting on the air, carried along like a gentle breeze. Shivering and overwhelmed, he allowed it to take root in his body and anchor him. When the next voice joined it, he listened, enraptured by the spontaneity and ease with which it found its own place in the already existing frame of reference. The new contrapuntal melodies joined and wove into the fabric of the music, seamlessly. 

More than anything, he wished to join it, but didn’t know how to, deathly afraid his meddling would unravel the delicate balance of the unified sound. 

It was then he heard a hauntingly familiar voice, carrying a tune entirely complementary to the saturated, yet airy fabric of the existing melodies. He turned to his right in awe and drank in the sight and the sound.

It was beautiful.

Independent, separate and yet… Part of the greater whole, contributing to it, making it complete.

Julian couldn’t think of his own melody, but he could follow someone else’s.

He let his uncertain human throat copy the music and hoped his vocal control wouldn’t slip. 

Elim turned towards him and Julian’s heart stuttered in his chest as the unbroken melody strengthened and blended together. 

Julian felt a sense of such wonder at the fact they synchronized and then it hit him – it was happening, just like Elim had described – the warmth, crawling up his spine, radiating upwards until it reached the top of his head and then overflowed, cascading down his skin and enveloping him in a curious vibration. His skin tingled and sparked. 

His heartbeat melted away into the collective sound and he realized the people all around him were swaying – everyone except….

Him and Elim.

Julian was stuck in the man’s orbit again.

Inexorably.

Inescapably.

_ Trapped. _

Then the names started getting called out – alien, haunting and wondrous.

He remembered what it meant.

People were calling out the names of individuals in need of prayer and healing, in need of this connection which healed their spirit. 

He looked at Elim, and not fully aware why, listened to the stirrings within. His throat expelled a sound – called out his name, as clear as a bell. To his surprise, the room accepted his foreign energy and his offering, chanting Elim’s name in gentle supplication that echoed his own. 

_ I want you to be healed and whole _ , Julian thought. _Just like I desire a green Cardassia you can be proud of._

Elim watched him, silent and attentive, his face betraying nothing. 

Then he spoke and Julian wasn’t sure what he said until the sea of Cardassians around him started repeating it.

It was his own name, spoken in native Kardassi. It sounded immeasurably gentle.

Elim wanted the same for him.

Julian trembled as he basked in the feeling of acceptance and belonging. 

He, who had never found a place, was accepted.

Acknowledged.

_ Seen _ .

Elim spoke to him then. A simple phrase, short. Julian didn’t understand what he said, but he felt warmth, so he smiled. 

Around them, other names were being called out and carried off by the harmonious din, but his focus was entirely on the man seated to his right. 

His bright blue eyes shone in the gloom and his smile was soft and understated. 

_ Beautiful _ .

Julian could feel the energy of the room calming around him, but his own energy remained vibrant and agitated. Elim’s gaze lingered on him long after a new voice started speaking.

_ The guide _ , Julian thought. It had to be. Still, he was captured by the clarity of the look in his friend’s eyes and wouldn’t look away for the world. 

The words, feminine yet sharp, loud yet soothing, wrapped around them like a cocoon. 

He was safe here.

It was ironic, really.

That he would feel safe in a room full of complete strangers just because Elim was there.

And when his friend turned to hear the guide, Julian just kept watching.

He’d never felt so grounded.

Or so open.

_ Receptive _ .

Maybe he wasn’t so broken, after all.

Maybe…

He would be all right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More poetic stuff! 
> 
> Your thoughts are always welcome! :)


	48. Astraea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ceremony ends and a familiar face makes an appearance!
> 
> The Guide approaches Elim and Julian to speak with them.

Julian focused on the woman in white, unsure why he bothered. She spoke with conviction, passion, and sadness, but Julian couldn’t really understand much. Every now and again he caught a familiar word, but they were so scarce that their meaning eluded him. 

Despite that, he felt relaxed and at peace here.

The readings and recitations went on for a while and once Julian had a feeling it would soon be over, he discreetly turned his translator back on. 

The expected happened; people remained and spoke to one another. The atmosphere was one of palpable relaxation and optimism. 

“Would I be wrong in assuming you enjoyed it?” Elim asked him.

“You know I did, Elim. You don’t even have to ask.”

His only answer was a significant look. 

“Doctor! Doctor Bashir!” A male voice called out from nearby and Julian turned around, genuinely surprised someone would call out to him here. 

A youthful face greeted him.

“Pem!” He called out, delighted. “What a surprise! What brings you here?” Julian said with undisguised delight.

The boy looked slightly abashed at the enthusiastic greeting, so Julian used a slightly more formal one, inclining his head minutely without breaking his eye-contact or his smile. 

“Precisely the questions I was going to ask, Doctor Bashir,” Pem said with a slightly embarrassed posture. “A friend of mine joins these meetings regularly and told me I should give them a chance… It’s only my second time, but I quite like it here. What about you?”

Julian smiled and turned to Elim.

“This is the person responsible for me being here,” He pointed graciously at Elim. “It’s only my first meeting and I must say I wouldn’t be opposed to another visit.”

“Crin Pem, sir.” The boy introduced himself and all but bowed to Garak, who didn’t seem to find it unusual. Julian thought this amount of deference was strange. 

“There’s no need for such formality, Pem. Just call me Garak.”

Pem’s eyes widened at that.

“I-“ He started, but then softened and cracked a hesitant little smile. “Yes. Thank you, Mister Garak.”

Elim sighed next to him and Julian laughed.

“It’s just plain, simple Garak, Pem.” Julian said with a reassuring smile. “He’s not big on ceremony.”

Pem’s ridges darkened slightly and he knew that was the Cardassian equivalent of a blush. 

“Elim, you are intimidating the poor boy.” Julian chuckled.

“Nonsense.” Garak said, “I am naught but a simple tailor.”

“Everybody knows you and Mister Ghemor are really responsible for the water reservoir under the Torr Sector, sir. We are all deeply grateful.”

Garak’s countenance softened.

“Then you are thanking the wrong man, Pem, because the one who brought the water purifier to Cardassia was none other than Doctor Bashir, here. We merely put it to good use.”

The already respectful look on Crin’s smooth face transformed into complete awe. His eyes dropped to the ground and he bowed deeply, holding such a posture for an uncomfortably long period of time. 

“Pem, please, there’s no need…” Julian entreated, “There’s no need to thank me, I did what any decent person would do.”

Pem straightened out at that, but the awed look wasn’t gone, it was now merely supplemented with an almost nauseating amount of gratitude. 

“Where is your lovely fiancée?” Julian asked, hoping to derail any further outpourings of deference. 

“Oh,” Pem blushed again. “My wife, actually.” There was a glow of happiness around him now.

“Congratulations!” Julian said.

“Thank you, Doctor Bashir.” The boy said, clearly still under the impression. It was sweet, really. 

“She’s busy at home, she-ah…” Here Crin trailed off, “…isn’t exactly interested in these meetings. I think she needs some time alone to heal from the loss of her family. I called her name today, hoping…”

“I understand.” Julian said warmly. 

“I heard your name, Doctor.” Pem said slightly sheepishly. “So I turned around and there you were… Perhaps it was presumptuous of me to approach you, but-“

“No, Pem, please!” Julian pleaded, “I am glad you did. It’s nice seeing you again. Did you apply to the Art Institute?”

Pem’s face fell.

“I have, but… They said they weren’t taking any new students this year, due to… well… the situation being what it is… I expected this, so… Wait, how did you-”

As Pem’s eyes widened, Julian realized his blunder. This was the information he got while eavesdropping. Oops.

“What was your submission?” Elim asked with sudden interest.

Pem rallied surprisingly quickly. 

“Ah… A sculpture and some calligraphy.”

“Calligraphy?” Elim said, clearly pleasantly surprised.

“Yes, sir. Early Union style.”

“That is a challenging art form, Pem.”

“I know…” The boy seemed flustered again. “I… somebody once told me I had a knack for it, so I kept it up because it was kind of… meditative…”

“It is.” Elim said approvingly. “May I see an example of your work some time?”

“I- I would be honored!” Pem stuttered and bowed again. 

“Bring it by the Necropolis in Paldar near sundown one day. I should be there, usually.”

“Of course!” Pem gushed, positively glowing at the prospect of showing an interested party his work.

“Crin! We’re going for a drink, you coming or what?”

“Yes! Coming!” Pem called out to a small group of friends and politely excused himself, promising he would go to Paldar at the promised time. 

“What a charming young man,” Elim commented lightly, “A patient of yours?”

“No, actually.” Julian said pleasantly. “I met him and his fiancée at the transport from Pullock V to Cardassia Prime.”

“It’s a shame he is so servile. He gives himself away.”

“What do you mean?”

Elim looked at him shrewdly.

“Surely you have noticed by now that we had neatly separated classes, Doctor.”

“I have. And I know he’s service class, Elim. His father was a sewage maintenance worker.”

Elim got a faraway pitying look.

“What a waste.”

“Why? Do you think nobody will sponsor him for the Institute because of it?

“Color me impressed, dear Doctor. You have become quite observant in my absence.”

Julian sighed.

“Any progress I’ve made was thanks to your letter, Elim…” He looked at the tailor warmly. “I needed that to put things into perspective. So…” He trailed off, feeling slightly embarrassed by the admission. “Thank you, Elim. Thank you for sending it.”

Elim’s eyes were two brilliant lights but he never got to hear what the man was about to say, because a woman glided into view. 

Her clothes were white, and so was her hair, mostly. Her eyes were set apart and her face commanding. 

Julian recognized her. 

_ Elim’s _ _ and Palandine’s guide _ .

Her stoic façade melted away the longer she looked at Elim and was replaced by a brilliant smile.

“Astraea.” Elim greeted with a polite incline of his head. 

She placed her palms on his shoulders and smiled softly, almost as if she was proud. 

“You never volunteered a name before, Elim… It was nice to hear.”

Elim replied nothing, but there were makings of a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“And you’ve brought someone very interesting with you.” She said slightly suggestively and turned to Julian.

“I have never had the pleasure of hosting a human here before. Welcome to Cardassia, Julian.” She said warmly. 

It was strange, being addressed by his first name by someone he just met, especially because it was a Cardassian. Still, he had noticed she had that tendency in Elim’s letter. Perhaps their philosophy endorsed such openness. 

“I am very glad to be here.”

“Did you like the service, Julian?” She asked and he flushed, knowing he didn’t understand virtually anything that came out of her mouth, but didn’t want to give himself away in front of Elim, so he said simply:

“I enjoyed it, yes. It was quite… transformative.” He said and chanced a look at Elim.

“It is always wonderful to see two individuals so synchronized.” She said gently and brushed Elim’s cheek with the back of her fingers.

“I always knew the time would come, Elim. Your fateline was so tangled before… That is why I couldn’t bear to tell you when you brought Palandine to us, all those years ago, that your roots were never meant to entwine… Merely intersect on your respective journeys. She gave you but a taste of the light hiding within you, but nobody could bring it out of you until you were ready to embrace it… And I see that time has finally come.” 

Her face transformed with pure joy.

“I am so happy for you, Elim.”

Garak’s face was soft and graceful.

“Thank you, Astraea.” He said quietly, as if he was humbled by her words. 

Then she turned to him and looked deeply into his eyes. Julian felt like he had no secrets before her, almost as if she could read him like an open book.

“Another lost being… You have found your place on Cardassia, haven’t you?” She observed and he wasn’t even surprised she had surmised as much.

“I… believe so.” He said softly. “I’ve been… adrift for a long time.”

“Oralius’ teachings are not exclusive to Cardassians, Julian. Any sentient being who appreciates the power of connection and love can find value in her words. You don’t even have to come here to celebrate Oralius. Just pour your light into the world, like I see you wish to.”

“I… I want to do something for Cardassia.” Julian began and his frightened eyes met Elim’s. “It’s an ambitious dream, for now, nothing more than an idealist’s crazy delusion, but…”

“You wish to manifest your vision in reality.” Astraea smiled.

“Yes.” Julian admitted, his eyes glistening. “More than anything.”

“Then you will find a way. All ideas begin in the higher realm and then it is up to us to manifest it on this one.”

“Elim… spoke about it once. I… remember.”

“Then you know what you must do.” She said mysteriously and gripped his shoulder.

Julian didn’t know why, but he felt bolstered by her words.

“Your tendrils are getting stronger, Julian. Nurture them.”

“I will.” He promised with a bright smile.

“Good luck Elim, Julian. You are always welcome here.”

With a final squeeze to his shoulder and a parting enigmatic smile, she disengaged them and approached another group of stragglers.

Julian suppressed a yawn.

“I suggest we head home, my dear.” Elim spoke soothingly and Julian just nodded, too tired to say much else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was intended to be quite fluffy, I hope you like it!


	49. Waking Up To This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian has a very vivid dream.
> 
> When he wakes, he realizes something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Too Many Secrets Poison the Soul](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190194161496/this-is-a-complicated-one-its-applicable-to) Love Theme! =D
> 
> Uh, this chapter is kind of smutty. Quite poetic, but if it's not your cup of tea, consider yourself warned, I guess.
> 
> Not sure how I would categorize this, to be honest.
> 
> Of course, this has been significantly inspired by "Roots", so some of you may find the style familiar - I can't take credit for it, but through lengthy discussion, EmpokNor and I have realized this style works wonderfully for a dissociating or slightly mentally compromised Julian. The fragmented thoughts suit the nature of a dream quite well. 
> 
> As always, thank you for taking the time to read this monster of a fic, it means a lot to me!

When they finally got back to the shed, Julian was completely knackered and could do little but collapse into bed, but when Elim told him he was cold; Julian crawled off the cot and next to him without a word of protest. He was tired and wanted nothing more than the sweet embrace of Morpheus, so the location where he lay his head mattered little, because as soon as the blanket covered them both, he was fast asleep.

He was dreaming.

A lush green field was stretching before him, unfathomably vast and he was standing in the grass, barefoot and nude, running his fingers through the tall stalks laden with strange flowers and gently dispersing clouds of wind-blown seeds. He watched them get carried away by the wind and on a whim decided to follow along. 

Running through the vibrantly alive plain filled him with energy and he turned his face towards the midday sun, which bathed and warmed his glistening skin. He knew exactly where he was; exactly where he was supposed to be -

Cardassia .

Revived.

Flourishing.

A jubilant avian cry pierced the skies and he looked up. A streak of dazzling purple plumage trailed after the bird which circled overhead and he watched where it was heading.

In the distance, he could see majestic cliffs being buffeted by the aquamarine waters of the Morfan Sea. His feet were light and sure, and he ran across the plain like an arrow, parting the grasses like curtains in his wake. 

Nothing could harm him here, of that he was certain. 

Floating off the cliff, he flew, just like that bird – elegantly, swiftly, tendrils of golden light holding him suspended in the air and serving as the medium he moved through.

The golden threads connecting him to the sea, the sky, the sun, the cliffs and the wild forest before him, kept him moored.

He drifted towards the rainforest and glided through the overgrowth.

No plants rose to snap at him or scratch him; no predators seemed hungry as they skulked through the jungle, keeping careful watch over him.

He was protected.

Warm.

Safe.

Cardassia was keeping him safe.

Ever deeper into the forest he went, touching the bark on the trees around him. Some were smooth like polished stone, others coarse like sandstone and several wet and slick with dark blue moss. 

The light was dwindling, but he wasn’t afraid. Night creatures’ eyes glowed and twinkled like stars, guiding his way. A structure rose from the gloom, glittering in the moonlight.

It was a cave entrance and a beguiling light was pulsing from within, drawing him in. 

Light and soundless, he glided closer to it with his arm outstretched; allowing himself to be engulfed entirely.

_ Warmth. _ _ _

He was sleeping on a thick carpet of crimson moss, blanketed by vines and drowsy on the smell of flowers. 

Some creature climbed across his ribcage, small and light-footed, making him squirm and giggle.

_ That tickles… _ He murmured, laughing at the comforting sensation.

It’s been so long since anyone tickled him. 

The wind laughed alongside him, breezing through the lush foliage.

He sprawled over the yielding moss and luxuriated in the feel of the vines snaking across his back.

_ Mmmm _ _ … _

_ “Enjoying yourself?”  _ A familiar voice drifted on the breeze.

He merely laughed sleepily.

_ Get out of my dream and find your own…  _ Stupid Cardassian. Couldn’t even leave his dreams alone.

The warmth of the sun was peeking through the thick canopy, bathing him in light.

_ So warm… _

_ “I agree.” _

Julian grumbled in his dream and rested his hand on a sun-warmed rock. The play of light and shadow on the mottled gray was exquisite. 

Even his unconscious mind could perceive him, it seemed.

Still, it was a lovely dream. 

Something was fluttering against his skin, butterflies, landing one after another – odd; golden, copper, brass – glittering and coarse. They rested on his back, folding and unfolding their sparkling wings, sending pinpricks of electricity racing across his skin with their delicate little feet. 

_ “So smooth…” _

How would you know?

You’re not here.

I’m dreaming…

So…

It’s normal.

Dreams don’t make sense.

He could feel something brushing against his thigh, gently, carefully.

Fingers.

Crawling up his skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

Familiar…

Caressing his ribs on their way up.

_ Elim _ _ … _

They don’t stop,

The warmth accumulates.

He rises to meet it and it’s there – the one who haunts him day and night, the shadow…

The light.

And the shackle -heavy.

Unbearable.

I am dreaming…

Can’t I be free in my own dreams?

Must I obey, even here?

_ Must I… Elim? _

_ “Only if you wish it, my dear…”  _ The man’s voice echoes through the trees and Julian wants to listen. 

And the imaginary touch lingers, sweet and soft, and he trembles from its power. 

I am dreaming…

I am safe.

_ Is it safe? _ He murmurs to the wind, hoping for a reply that doesn’t come.

Fingertips against his lips now, delicate, hesitant.

These are safe.

He may have promised and he will keep it.

He will!

But this is a dream…

So…

What’s the harm?

He allows his lips to skim the skin on offer.

So close.

_ Closer… _

A firmer touch now.

On his hip.

Grasping.

Pulling him in.

He’s flush against another.

Familiar.

Known.

And yet… in this entire jungle…

The only unexplored part.

The only unknown.

It’s just a dream.

And he is safe.

Just this once and that will be enough.

_ Just once… _ He murmurs into the moss and feels fingers in his hair.

A warm, tickling breeze against his face.

His lips part.

Are parted.

His body writhes into the touch as the memories keep flooding in.

Overwhelming.

Inescapable.

He relives it, all over again.

Is reminded.

_ Elim _ _ -ah!  _ He wants to ask for a reprieve, for mercy, but his mind isn’t listening.

_ _

And the hands never stop.

Don’t listen.

Elim’s clever fingers…

Skilled and determined.

Trailing up his thigh, making him shiver.

Across his stomach.

Maddening.

The warmth is pooling within him – gathering, growing, coalescing.

Something nudges between his legs.

A thigh.

Chiding himself, he trembles.

Even in his dreams he has no control over himself.

But…

He doesn’t have to, does he?

Because it isn’t real…

The thigh slides between his and he gasps at the friction.

Too good.

Blindingly so.

He really, really shouldn’t, but this is all in his head.

Why am I even imagining this?

_ “Do you like this, my dear?”  _ Imaginary Elim asks and if he were awake he would say no, he would deny and deflect and run, but here, where there’s no obligation or fear, he speaks the truth.

Yes. 

_ Yes…  _ He breathes more than speaks.

_ _

He likes it.

Entirely too much.

Obscenely so.

Cannot deny it, or hide it, not when he undulates against the body he’s conjured up.

It feels so real.

Because he knows how it feels now.

He has slept next to Elim.

In his arms.

Held.

And now… His imagination is growing out of control.

The hands continue to explore and map his skin.

_ “Exquisite…” _ He imagines Elim saying.

But –

He’s not here.

I’m alone…

Yet, the hands, even imagined, soothe.

Ignite.

_ Burn… Burn me… _

And then he was burning.

From the touch.

From the light.

The heat was growing unbearable.

His hips were moving on instinct, seeking closeness, contact.

Found it.

_ Elim _ _ … _ A whimper.

A plea.

_ “I love the way you say my name…” _ Garak would never ever admit such a thing, out there. 

Outside of his delusion.

_ “Like I am some deity you pray to… A forbidden, cast-out God with a single devotee…” _

_ _

The words make him tremble.

With need.

With hunger.

He seeks with gasping breaths and receives everything he could never imagine.

Ambrosia.

On his lips.

Supple and intoxicating.

His hands reach out and find purchase.

A firm chest.

Hidden ridges.

He touches, crawls higher, discovers a neat row of scales.

Familiar.

So, his fingers count them.

Slowly.

And this time, when he finds the _kinat’hU_, he caresses.

First with his fingers –

Then with his lips.

And the more pressure he offers, the fingers grip him tighter,

So he bites.

A gentle bite turns harsher and the man beside him moans.

It doesn’t sound like anything he’s ever heard before.

_ “Julian… _ ”The voice whispers, full of desire.

How can I know what that sounds like?

The fingers in his hair grip.

Pull.

Make him moan Elim’s name.

It’s too good.

Too real.

So he rides it.

The feeling.

Bites again and hears a soft, lustful keen.

The sound goes straight to his groin.

It shouldn’t.

But it does.

It wakes something in him.

A part of him that had lain dormant for so long he had forgotten it was there.

Attraction.

To men.

To one particular – _this_ particular man.

This intimidating, compelling, utterly enthralling being who captivates him, binds him and releases him in one breath; who leaves him breathless while he breathes life into him – who gives as much as he takes.

Always equitable.

Generous.

Forgiving.

“Elim…” He moans and the hands grip him firmly, pulling him closer still, until he’s lying on top of him, rolling his hips in search of heat.

“Good morning, my dear…” Elim’s clear eyes greet him and Julian blinks. “I wouldn’t be opposed to waking like this more often.”

The tone is familiar.

The glint in his eyes also.

But so are their surroundings.

The tidy shack bathed in the light of dawn.

The mattress on the floor.

There is no jungle, no butterflies or vines.

No moss.

Just Elim.

And when he captures Julian’s mouth again, awareness begins to creep in.

He is awake.

Aroused.

Grinding against Elim, unable to overwrite his body with commands issued by his protesting mind, because something else is overruling it.

His body, his heart and his soul, working in concert – resisting, fighting –

His mind is screaming at him to stop, reminding him of the heavy shackles, but the golden light surges within and simply dissolves them - casting them aside like they are less than nothing.

The pressure exerted by his soul, yes, _his soul_, is crushing.

So when Elim’s wicked tongue teases his lips, Julian tastes it.

Accepts it.

Molds around it.

The hands are on his hips, gripping, as if desperate, and he shudders, convulses and cries out.

In pleasure.

And pain.

Because his promise is worthless.

And the knowledge gained, it’s…

Chaos.

So when he collapses beside Elim, deeply ashamed and spent, he allows the embrace and the gentleness because he’s lost all will to fight.

He lost.

And now…

_ Who do I tell? _

_ _

_ _

_ _

_ And what? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you thought about this, as I'm quite nervous about it (even though I consider it quite tame).
> 
> There will be more explicit smut in the future, though that is still far off.


	50. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian wrestles with his conscience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something short, to tide you over.

Julian excused himself lamely to go wash up and when the doors of the outhouse closed behind him, he slumped against the wall, mortified. 

What the hell had that been?

_ I just… _

He couldn’t even finish the sentence in his mind.

The dream was wonderful at first, hopeful and bright…

How much of it was a dream?

Who started it?

Did reality bleed into the dream or the other way around?

He wasn’t sure – couldn’t be sure, not unless he asked Elim, and there was no conceivable way he could do that, not in the present circumstances; not when he could hardly look the man in the eye.

Were the words spoken in the dream just his overactive imagination?

Because…

_ “I love the way you say my name… Like I am some deity you pray to… A forbidden, cast-out God with a single devotee…” _

They burned inside him, even now. 

Setting every nerve alight.

Conquering him utterly.

It was insanity.

Doing his best to push the thoughts away, he set out to clear the evidence of his betrayal from his skin.

He felt ashamed and guilty, even as a part of him, a truly small part, basked in the feeling of being touched and brought to life by Elim.

_ Elim… _

Julian’s cheeks burned. 

The memory of the touch excited still.

_ I have to tell Ezri. I’ve been… _

He’d been…

_ Unfaithful. _

That was the right term for it. Regardless of his mental state, or the fact he’d been dreaming, a part of him seemed to want what had transpired between them, seemed to crave closeness and affection-

_ I have to tell Elim as well. This isn’t fair to him, because he… He doesn’t know I’m with Ezri, he thinks… _

Did Elim think Julian came to Cardassia for more than forgiveness? 

_ I just couldn’t bear our friendship disintegrating, like it had never been there… If I hadn’t come… _

But he had. 

By God, he had. 

_ Did I give him the wrong idea? _

Julian didn’t know what to think anymore. 

But the painful truth was now staring him in the face.

He wanted Elim.

The admission, however private and internal made him feel like a degenerate. Here he was, cheating on his girlfriend, no matter how reluctantly, and washing away the proof of his indiscretion, almost like that could change what occurred. 

If Elim knew…

The thought of telling Ezri was horrifying, but the thought of telling Elim…

It was excruciating.

Excoriating.

Impossible.

_ I can’t tell him… If he’s hated me before…  _

The thought of seeing anger on Elim’s softened features frightened him.

The thought of seeing disappointment, however;

The thought of those slumped shoulders,

Of defeat…

It tore him in two. He felt like a piece of fabric tearing not at the seams, but down the middle, threads snapping off and fraying unnaturally, devastatingly.

_ I can’t tell Elim… I just can’t.  _

He’d already broken his promise to Ezri, but he didn’t want to break both of his promises. 

_ I will keep one - at least one. _

But how could he? When he made that promise to himself, to be anything Elim wanted, he hadn’t known the tailor had any designs of… that particular nature. 

And, damn it all, even now, his mind assaulted him with irrelevant data –

Elim’s smell.

Taste.

Touch.

As his mind tried to rebel, compartmentalize, deny, ignore – his heart kept beating erratically in his chest, refusing to still. 

_ It’s not irrelevant. _

_ _

Elim’s eyes crinkling with joy.

The corners of his lips quirking up in a mischievous smile.

The way his ridges looked, bathed in the light of Cardassia’s moons…

Julian splayed a hand against the wall and slumped forward, barely able to stand. 

Elim was invading his every thought, every memory, every thread and Julian trembled, terrified.

_ Why? _

Why wasn’t it working?

_ _

_ Why can’t I evict him from my mind? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of an intermediary chapter, the next two continue right after each other, featuring the same morning.
> 
> Julian will make a choice in the next one.


	51. Already Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak brings Julian clothes to change into.
> 
> They have an argument and Julian makes a split-second decision when he can't find the right words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continues right where we left off...

A muffled voice reached him through the closed doors.

“My dear, the skimmer will be here soon. You don’t wish to be late, do you?”

Panicking at the thought of seeing Elim in this state, he cried out:

“I’ll be right out!”

“I have brought you clothes so you can change.” Garak said from the other side of the door.

Julian came closer and laid his palm against it. When would be the next time he dared press it against Elim’s?

Would there ever be a time when he would be able to look his friend in the eye and not blush, not feel guilt’s sharp sting and arousal’s scalding downward spiral through his gut? Because right now he couldn’t imagine it.

It was all too fresh and too immediate in his mind.

“Julian, unlatch the door.”

It wasn’t a threat, nor was it entirely neutral.

If he didn’t know any better, he would call that a plea.

Which was completely absurd, because Garak was not a man who pleaded for anything.

“Julian.”

Just his name now. Spoken firmly.

Swallowing, he unlatched the door, knowing he looked a mess. 

Elim’s eyes were colder than he expected and when he averted his gaze to take the proffered clothing, a hand stopped his chin from reaching his chest and guided his face back up.

He was pinned under that gaze, like a helpless butterfly under a glass case. 

When Elim just sighed and his shoulders dropped a fraction, Julian’s panic reached new heights. Unthinking, he approached and leaned his forehead against Garak’s, willing his breathing to still, but failing.

“Elim…” He all but whispered, grasping for the right words to say, but falling abysmally short. 

“We’ll talk when you come back.” The Cardassian said resolutely and Julian merely nodded, absurdly grateful for the reprieve. 

Garak then handed him his clothes and left. 

The sight of that retreating back shattered Julian’s last remaining resolve.

“Elim, wait!”

“We have no time for this foolishness, Doctor. Zeyem will be most cross.”

“I couldn’t give less of a damn, Elim.” Julian said, angered by the clear dismissal. Gripping the clothes in his left hand, he eliminated the distance between them. 

“And how many times must I ask you call me by my given name?”

Elim’s face was shut-off.

Walled.

Closed.

Julian _despised_ it. 

“Using your professional title is respectful,” Elim said condescendingly, “I thought you’d learned at least that much in your time here.”

“Really, Elim? Would you rather I called you Tailor? Or Spy? Oh, how about Son of Tain? Which professional title would you I rather use than your name?” He was spitting out words, heart rate spiking, adrenaline releasing – fight or flight.

Unlike usually, his body had chosen to fight. 

Elim’s eyes narrowed.

Julian pressed on.

“Have I imagined it? This morning? Have I imagined what you said about the way I say your name?”

At that, a physical reaction, at last.

Honest.

A subtle, yet undeniable darkening of the man’s ridges as they flushed blue, contrasting against his gray skin.

“Why would I call you anything but Elim? Haven’t I earned that right?” Julian asked, knowing he was acting irrationally. 

Still, the man said nothing, merely watching his incoherent ramblings with infuriating calm.

Julian wanted to shatter it.

“Don’t use my title in private anymore.” He very nearly growled at the Cardassian.

“We aren’t in private, unless you haven’t noticed.” Again, calm.

“We’re alone, Elim!”

“We won’t be for much longer, with the racket you’re making.” Garak said sternly. 

The disapproval in that tone made Julian want to break something. 

“You and your stupid Cardassian propriety!” Julian fumed.

“Pity,” Elim said haughtily, but his eyes were cold. “I thought you’d developed a respect for my culture. Clearly I was mistaken.”

Out of breath and out of options, Julian just stood there, fuming and helpless, impotently racking his brain for the right thing to say.

Perhaps there wasn’t such a thing.

Operating on rage and desperation-fueled instinct, Julian stepped into Elim’s personal space, gripped him by the hair and kissed him roughly.

_ I am already damned. _

Therefore, this didn’t matter. 

When the recipient of his none too gentle ministrations failed to respond, his stomach plummeted.

This was it. The moment Elim’ infinite patience dried up and he was thrown off and harmed.

Being actually pushed away hurt, but not physically, no, that pain was entirely irrelevant – it was the pain in his chest that surprised him.

Yet, the look in Elim’s eyes was no longer cold.

It looked like anger, and when Julian’s back hit the wall of the shed behind him, he wondered what Garak would do to him, but the look turned calculating and he knew his fate was being decided in that split second.

Would he be evicted, beaten? Torn to shreds verbally?

And then he was.

Being torn.

Into.

Backed against the wall, under assault.

Elim held him in place as he kissed him, nipping at his lips as if to punish for his irreverence. 

If it was punishment, it was the most torturous kind he’d ever been subjected to. 

_ I’m already too far gone. _

So he embraced it, meeting the hunger with his own, matching the force, the pressure and the heat.

For a brief moment, it was sheer bliss – molten heat and enrapturing taste, surging within him.

And when Elim disengaged, leaving Julian gasping at the loss, the spy’s words were stern, yet belied by the gleam in his expressive blue eyes:

“See what you reduce me to, my dear? Shameful displays of public indecency. Mila would be appalled.”

Julian wanted to laugh, but he was too busy trying to catch his breath. 

_ I… I did this.  _

He kissed Elim first.

_ I have no more convenient excuses, do I? _

That’s when the sound of skimmer engines came into his hearing range.

“Shit, the skimmer’s here.” He cursed under his breath and retreated into the bathroom to dress.

To his immense relief, the sound of laughter reached him through the closed door.

That meant Elim wasn’t mad.

Julian hastened to dress and realized something.

He could finally breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He gave in! Finally! 
> 
> Thoughts always welcome!


	52. Why Can't I Let It Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian heads to work where he overhears an interesting conversation between Zeyem and Trengem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another small chapter before shit hits the fan!

Finally dressed and passably clear-headed, Julian rushed out of the washroom and ran towards the skimmer, where Elim was waiting on him with his medkit. 

Grateful for the thoughtfulness, Julian gave the bundle of his sleepwear to Elim and grabbed the bag. 

“Zeyem will keep you overtime for your tardiness, my dear. Now you cannot say I didn’t warn you.”

Julian laughed.

“Forewarned is forearmed.” Julian agreed.

“One of the wiser proverbs I’ve heard. Perhaps humanity isn’t so frivolous, after all.”

Julian ignored the subtle jab and smiled softly.

“See you later, Elim.” With that, he boarded the skimmer.

***

Julian was doing his job admirably well under the circumstances. He’d worked in the infirmary, and when they ran out of patients to treat, he headed into the research lab. 

Zeyem was inside (unsurprisingly), but was currently in a call with someone, so he kept quiet and walked to his usual work station where he checked on the latest test results. They weren’t encouraging. 

“It was about time, Vonek. You aren’t getting any younger, either of you.”

A familiar male voice answered over the comm:

“I know, I know. There’s no need to rub it in. And I would appreciate if you didn’t tell Telat anything.”

That was nurse Trengem’s voice. Julian had no idea what his first name was until Zeyem used it right now. How strange.

“So, what do you need my help with?”

“I need a bottle of the 2327 vintage, if you could manage that through your connections.”

“Oh,” Zeyem quirked her eye ridges, “Does that mean you already procured one?”

“Indeed it does.” Trengem said with a hint of pride. 

“Ambitious choice for a twinned gift.” She said.

“Telat has a taste for it, and who am I to deny my love the indulgence? We get so few, as is.”

“I know just the person to ask.” Zeyem said calmly, making Julian wonder whether he wasn’t the only person with a wish to raid Ghemor’s wine cellar. 

“Thank you, Moje. That would be most appreciated.”

Julian tried to hide his bulging eyes and evident shock.

Trengem was actually addressing Zeyem so familiarly! He had no idea she would even allow such liberties to her staff, but then again, Trengem did mention in passing that he’d worked here for twenty-odd years.

_ So, that’s her first name… Moje. _

It sounded way too soft for a woman of her strength and sharpness.

“Do you have the rest?” Zeyem inquired and Trengem replied with a hint of excitement.

“Yes, I bartered until I got what I needed. I know the second edition Preloc will be much appreciated.”

Zeyem let out the sound which was the Cardassian equivalent of a human whistle of appreciation.

“I won’t even ask how you managed to obtain that.”

Trengem sighed over the comm.

“You know people are selling their valued possessions for a glass of _rokassa_ juice these days…”

Zeyem visibly sobered at that. 

“What we have been reduced to,” She said bitterly. “Selling off our heritage for a pittance… “

“I know…” The nurse’s voice was weary. “I just need that one bottle, Moje.”

“I will do my best to obtain it for you, Vonek. Just concentrate on spoiling your lover in the meantime.”

This made Trengem laugh and with a final phrase of polite gratitude, he dropped the call.

Julian wondered who Nurse Trengem’s lady friend was, as he’d never heard mention of a lover in almost a month he’d worked here.

To be fair, this was hardly surprising, as Cardassians were somewhat tight-lipped about these sorts of things. Besides, he didn’t speak much with Gaddik or Trengem, as they seemed a little bit unapproachable and he didn’t wish to make them uncomfortable. He was perfectly content talking to Ghar and Zeyem. 

“Happy couples all around me!” Zeyem grumbled. “Akleen save us all! The productivity will plummet…”

Julian grinned behind his console, unable to stay serious at her grousing.

But then he remembered…

Happy couples…

There would be one less happy couple once he called Ezri.

He still had no idea what to tell her. 

How do you even word such a thing?

Julian had never cheated on any of his girlfriends before. He may be frivolous and excitable, but he’d never given in to the impulse to stray. It had never been a tempting prospect, and if any wondering thoughts occurred, he had them quashed within a few seconds.

But any and all attempts to do this with Elim were fruitless and entirely ineffective. 

_ I love Ezri. _

That should be strong enough motivation to resist any temptation, so why wasn’t it?

Why did he fail?

Give in?

Fall?

And then he was assaulted by the feel of Elim’s firm body, pressing him into the wall of the shed, nipping and kissing and…

_ Devouring. _

The thought was incendiary.

He could feel his heartbeat in his groin.

_ What’s wrong with me? _ He thought in desperation. _Why can’t I let this go?_

“Bashir, have a look at this.”

Grateful for the reprieve, he threw himself into his work head first and let it consume him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow, brace for impact!


	53. How Long Before It Happens Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian calls Ezri to try and explain what has happened.
> 
> When he gets tongue-tied, she steps forward and fills in the blanks.
> 
> Julian finally realizes what his subconscious had been trying to communicate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody is happy in this one.
> 
> Have your tissues ready!

Julian waited for the end of his shift patiently. And when Zeyem dismissed him, he notified her he would be making an important call and she allowed him the use of one of the abandoned offices for privacy; which he accepted gratefully. 

This was not a call anyone would enjoy. 

He let the doors slide shut behind him and sighed. He needed to marshal his thoughts, as well as his courage. Ezri would kill him.

It’s not like she needed to, he was doing a fine job of it all on his own. The guilt had been gnawing at him all day.

Why did it feel right in the moment, he wondered. What had possessed him to reach out for Elim and…

_ It felt good. _

Of course it had – the excitement, sharp and precarious like a finely balanced knife’s edge, and they’d been dancing on it for quite awhile. Perhaps it had only been a matter of time… 

Why hadn’t he done this years ago and gotten it out of his system? This was a stupid time in his life to be experimenting like this. 

_ I love Ezri. She doesn’t deserve this. _

Moral quandary.

Who does he hurt less?

“_You are allowed to change your mind.”_

The words seemed relevant to the situation at hand, but likely not in the way Elim had envisioned.

_ “Even a blind man can see how devoted Elim is to you. I’ve never seen him more care-free. He’d always been reserved, and glimpses into his soul were precious and few. As soon as you arrived, he was suddenly open, his every emotion readily discernible.” _

Yes… He had to remember that. 

Both Elim and Ezri… loved him.

At the moment, he couldn’t fathom why. 

He didn’t deserve either.

And both of them deserved much better.

_ Elim could have Kelas… The man would do anything for him. _

The thought nearly made him hyperventilate.

He collapsed into a chair in front of the console and tried to calm the frantic beating of his heart.

He could feel it in his throat.

_ “Anything that may have been between them before you arrived stopped the moment Elim offered you his home. He chose you over Parmak.” _

Chose what? A fickle friend who had no idea what he wanted?

Desire still swirled in his gut, heating his limbs like a gulp of potent _kanar._

_ Why do I feel this way? _

_ Why can’t I stop? _

The thought was utterly absorbing.

Consuming.

Eviscerating.

He needed to tell.

Get it off his chest and out of his mind.

Apologize to Ezri and…

And…

He had no idea what then.

But he made the call regardless. 

Needed to be done.

“Julian!” She said happily and his heart sank.

How could he break her heart like this?

Worse yet, how could he not?

A frown marring her delicate features.

Ugly.

His fault.

And worse it got.

Blue eyes narrowed.

The wrong shade of blue.

Julian swallowed.

Anger and resentment in her gaze.

Churning and bubbling over.

Something too close to hatred.

Unable to keep looking, he averted his gaze.

Escaped.

“Well.” Ezri said sternly. “That didn’t take very long.”

He closed his eyes and gulped. 

Knew he was guilty.

Clearly it showed. 

“So, what was it this time? Hm?” She pushed, her every word a sharp dart aimed at his frail skin. “Were you drunk?”

He shook his head minutely.

“Or perhaps, it was a mutated Cardassian virus?”

That was preposterous. What was she even getting at?

“Oh, let me guess, you got exposed to a rare plant which releases sex pollen?”

When he failed to respond, she allowed the silence to stretch. 

“Or better yet! Is this the part where you tell me Garak seduced you and that there was nothing you could do because you lost a bet or something equally ridiculous and unconvincing? Well? What was it?”

Julian remained mute, incapable of uttering a single word. 

_ “I was asleep _ ” sounded ridiculous. 

He knew it would go over poorly.

“Will you really sit there like a kicked puppy and let me do all the work of coaxing whatever it is that you did out of you?” Ezri all but growled.

“No! I’m sorry!” Julian said, locking gazes with her again and doing his level best to bear it. He’d never seen her so angry or so disappointed. 

“What have you done, then! You can’t just sit there, looking guilty and let me imagine whatever horrors…” At this, she tried to rein herself in, but the anger remained. 

“Ironic, Julian,” She said venomously, “That a man who usually talks a mile a minute can’t find any words. Where are they now, huh? Where are the medical or literary monologues? Where is that passion?”

At the mention of that word, Julian’s cheeks flushed in betrayal. 

Her eyes were sparking with fury. 

“Say it. I won’t do your job for you. I’m not your fucking therapist, Julian!”

“I never wanted you to be! I never asked you to be!”

“Then tell me what the hell it is that you did!!” She screamed at him, her usually gentle face distorted and frightening. 

“I was asleep, ok?!” He shouted back. “I thought I was dreaming – I was walking across a green, vibrantly alive Cardassia, healed from the War and the ravages of the ancient climate changes and there was a lush plain… and a bird crying overhead, flying over the crystalline waters of the Morfan Sea and I followed – I followed where it took me and I flew! Over the cliffs, the ocean and into the rainforest and… I was safe there, I rested there and…”

“And what?? Garak was there, like some primordial Adam, wearing nothing but a fig leaf? Huh?”

“Of course not!” Julian spat. “I’m _trying_ to tell you and this is hard for me, why are you behaving this way?”

An indignant glare was his answer. 

“Finish then.” She said coldly.

He tried to ignore her accusatory tone and reminded himself he deserved it. 

This was his fault.

“I… I heard his voice in my dream…” He began, looking at the hands folded in his lap. “I felt… animals scurrying over my lying body… Vines… butterflies. I didn’t…”

Her silence was full of recrimination. He didn’t even have to see her face to know. 

_ Everything I had felt… Had been Elim. _

And just like that, Julian was ablaze again.

“I thought I was dreaming, and if I was dreaming, then… It wasn’t real – wouldn’t be real, and if it was just a construct of my unconscious mind, then-“

“Then you could give in, right? You could let him do whatever he wanted to you and enjoy it without consequences, am I right?”

Julian wanted to say no, but the truth in her words struck deep and true. 

“He didn’t… do anything to me.” He whispered.

“Spare me, Julian!” Ezri cried out in fury. “I don’t want to know how far it went!”

“I didn’t mean to!” He protested. “When I’m awake, I avoid it, I never allow anything untoward-“

“You avoid it.” She said in a dead tone. “You don’t _allow_ it…. As if that’s the point.”

Julian looked at her helplessly.

“I broke my promise to you, I know it’s bad, but if you’ll-“

“Let you explain? Fool me again? Invent some bullshit to allay my fears?” She was breathing hard. “No. No, Julian. Once again, you don’t see what’s right in front of you, even if you’re knee-deep in it.”

“I know I messed up, Ezri, but…”

“But what?” She asked, incredulously. 

Callously. 

His words vanished.

“Fix this? Make it all go away? Kiss and make up?”

Her words were a rain of fury he deserved to get destroyed by. 

“Was that what you counted on, when you cheated on me? Ezri the _reasonable_, Ezri the _gullible_, she will _forgive me_ and allow me to _walk_ all over her… Is that what you thought?!”

“No!” Julian cried out indignantly. “Of course not! I would never!”

“Really?” She said in a deadly whisper which chilled him to the bone. “Was that before or after you fucked him? Or he fucked _you_, most likely. I sincerely doubt you would offer more than a token resistance.”

The crassness of her words was shocking.

“Ezri, I haven’t – we – nothing like that happened!”

“Oh, no, of course not! My mistake!” She cried. “He probably made love to you, candles, rose petals and all!”

“Ezri!” He stammered in shock. “Why are you saying this?”

“Jadzia warned me!” She seemed insensate, rambling and facing slightly away from the console, almost like she was going insane. “She warned me, told me you were immature, oblivious and unfocused – that you flitted from one object of fascination to the next, unable to commit… The eternal child! Spoiled and needy and entirely incapable of understanding himself intimately…”

With that she turned back to him, eyes blazing.

“Do you know the real reason she rejected you? Huh?”

He didn’t. He only remembered she told him if it hadn’t been for Worf…

“It wouldn’t have been you! She never would have chosen you, even if Worf had never entered her life, and you know why?”

Julian had a feeling he shouldn’t be hearing this.

“Because, and I quote: _I don’t want to spend the best twenty or thirty years of my life, molding him into something resembling a good partner. No matter how charming he may be, there’s only so much substance to an adventure._”

Julian felt that like a physical blow.

Even Jadzia…

Even she thought he wasn’t worth it.

Choking on his inhale; he tried to keep the tears in.

“She warned me you were looking for her in me! And you! You…” Her face was red. “Did you think I was _stupid_? Or just blind? Did you forget whose memories I have?? I’ve been both a husband and a wife, had uncountable lovers as Curzon, raised children… Did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice?”

“Notice what?” Julian spat. 

“Your gradual slide into his _arms_, that’s what! As soon as you got that letter, you turned distant, always somewhere far away in your mind – utterly consumed by his words! I tolerated it for two months, thinking you just needed more time to process it and then you tell me you’re going to _Cardassia_, FOR TWO WHOLE MONTHS, that you’ve spent all your credits on a huge haul of relief supplies and I thought, sure, he wants to help, he feels bad, he… And then… You get there… And for several days, I hear _nothing_ from you! Not a word! I thought you’d been mugged and killed the moment you stepped onto Cardassia, or even in transit and once you did eventually manage to find time for me in your oh-so-busy schedule, your message is so INSULTINGLY sparse and I realize that you’ve just forgotten all about me – relegated me to your ever-growing pile of secondary interests… And then… Oh then… You call me!”

Julian wondered what else he’d done wrong.

“And all you can talk about is _him_. Elim this – Elim that – Elim, Elim, ELIM!” She was out of breath and gnashing her teeth.

“When you told me he kissed you… I knew. I knew it was only a matter of time before you gave in.” Her voice was breaking, but she went on: “Took you only… what, two weeks? Is this a new record for you?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. 

“Did you just conveniently _forget_ who you used to discuss Garak with, huh? Did you forget Jadzia used to listen to your little diatribes about his lies and how unfair they were? Was your memory wiped to the point you cannot recall the advice you sought from her? Are you really so oblivious that you don’t think she knew what was simmering between the two of you – always beneath the surface?”

“What?” He said dumbly. 

With a look at his uncomprehending face, Ezri burst into hysterical laughter.

“Ohhhh, you don’t know, do you! Garak’s been after you for years! I thought, assumed that he’d given up, just like Jadzia….” She spat bitterly, but then a manic gleam shone in her eyes.

“Imagine my surprise when I accessed the letter – yes – Jadzia hacked your console, for me. Convenient, isn’t it?” Self-satisfied, she plowed on: “Imagine my surprise when I realized it wasn’t a letter, oh no, it was much _much_ worse than that. In hindsight, I should have known. Garak had always been terribly verbose; he could almost rival you, except he had the capacity for self-restraint, unlike you. No… He sent you a novel. A memoir. A fucking, 389 page long _love letter_, almost _begging you _to see him; guilting you into it! Dangling everything you’ve ever wanted from him in front of you, like a perfect bait he knew you couldn’t refuse! And you! You actually went! Fell for his traps and his lies-“

“He isn’t lying!” Julian cried out, certain of his claim.

“And there is my proof, once and for all! You defend him! You are in the wrong, you’ve cheated on me, and you defend _him_!”

“Ezri, I’m sorry-“

“You’re not! You’re not sorry!” She wept angrily. “You feel bad, but you’re not sorry. You’ve found a new object of desire and worship, and you will ride it out until the end, like you always do – milking it for all its worth, until you find something new and exciting which tickles your fancy. That’s your MO, always had been. Don’t even bother denying it, it’s insulting!”

He fell quiet and wished it would stop. 

“And I… I just wanted you to prove me wrong, Julian… You said you loved me and you seemed to mean it, but I know better now.”

“That’s not true, Ezri…”

“If it still isn’t clear enough, perhaps I should spell it out for you?” She was nearly shaking with rage. 

“There is a very simple experiment I could do right now, which would prove definitively, once and for all, that you don’t actually _love_ me.”

“How can such a thing be?” Julian murmured, too raw to think. 

“Say my name, Julian.”

“What?” He said, beyond confused by her request.

“Just say it.” Ezri said with remarkable control over her simmering rage. 

“Ezri?” He said, unsure what she wanted from him. 

“All right.” She nodded. “Now say _his_ name.”

“What, Garak?” Julian blurted out, still uncomprehending. 

Her gaze was scathing and cold.

“His first name, Julian.”

His anxiety spiked, sending his heart rate through the roof. He breathed in once.

Twice.

Unable to bear the intensity of her accusing stare, he looked down at his numb hands and…

His name.

Just say his name.

What came out was a barely audible whisper.

“Elim…”

Blinking several times, he dared look up.

Wished he hadn’t.

Her face was awash with tears.

Bitter, cascading, heart-rending.

He’d put them there.

_ My fault. _

“If that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know,” Ezri hiccoughed, “Then you are hopeless.”

He could only stare impotently at the damage he’d wrought. 

“I will gather all your stuff and leave it in the storage.”

“What…” He trailed off. “What does that mean?”

“We’re through, Julian, that’s what that means.”

He wanted to argue, but couldn’t. 

Couldn’t wound further. 

“I should be angry at him, I really should, but you know what?” 

He didn’t want to know.

But she said it anyways.

“I feel _sorry_ for him. Because I know you’ll do the same thing to him, eventually. How long before this obsession with Cardassia wanes? A week? A month?A _year_?”

Julian didn’t think it would, because… He felt connected here, safe – moored. 

Rooted.

“Tell me Julian, and be honest with yourself, for once… How long before it happens again, huh?”

He gripped his knees painfully, wishing she would just stop.

“How long before you destroy him with your half-baked, cheap imitation of love?”

Julian’s moorings snapped, one by one, falling into the sea and whipping in the wind.

Bereft.

Lost.

_ Alone. _

“I don’t want to hear from you – not a single word. Not even when you come back.”

He had no home.

“_If_ you come back.” She snorted bitterly. 

He had nothing.

“And, even though I really shouldn’t, I’m sending you a file. Just so you can see what I’m talking about.” Ezri spat and terminated the call. 

Numb and crumbling, he accessed the file.

His hands were trembling.

It was a 13,57 second long video clip, stuck in a loop.

With trepidation, he watched his own face, pale and drawn, his eyes widening and then retreating to the safety of his lap and his hesitation, his panic and resolve, all warring until his mouth spoke the softest, gentlest…

“_Elim…_”

Unable to look away, he let it play from the start.

The torment in his eyes and the way he closed them for a brief moment before speaking…

“_Elim…_”

The tension and then, almost imperceptible release after he said-

“_Elim…_”

He stopped the recording. Wiped it in blind panic. 

Put his elbows on the console and buried his face in his hands. 

_ Elim… _

The way he said it… It echoed in his mind, full of meaning, full of promise, full of…

With a shuddering sob, he allowed the thought to escape the cage.

_ I love him. _

An aborted wail broke through his fingers.

_ I love… Elim _ .

The cursed words rent through him then, taking away the last of his light.

_ “How long before you destroy him with your half-baked, cheap imitation of love?” _

_ _

Alone and unfettered- 

-he allowed himself to shatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be delighted to hear your thought on this one, as it is, I believe, one of the most powerful things I've ever written...


	54. So Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian retreats deep into his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for anyone who might find a full chapter of dissociating too harsh. I promise this is the last one we see anything even remotely as severe as this happening. 
> 
> As ever, big thanks to my muse, EmpokNor, as this chapter positively screams "Roots".

Julian lost all track of time. 

It was entirely meaningless anyhow.

It didn’t exist at all, as far as he was concerned. 

He sat on the floor, behind the console, hiding like a child. 

His head lay against his shoulder blades, mouth agape, eyes staring at the ceiling and hands lying limply, palms open by his sides.

His breathing was weak and shallow and he was dimly aware his oxygen intake was insufficient and his blood pressure low. If he tried getting up now, he would stumble and fall.

Or vomit.

Perhaps both.

Bile tickled his throat even now, reminding him of its presence. 

His mind was empty.

Also full.

Neither.

He was confused by the gaping nothingness lurking within him. It skulked about his ankles like a purring cat. 

He could almost see it – personified.

He blinked.

Saw only the ceiling.

Gray and chrome.

Dimmed lights.

This state of non-being was soothing somehow.

Simple.

The room was warm.

41 °C.

His clothes were sticky and plastered to his body, but he cared little.

He wasn’t required to move. 

So…

What did it matter.

Footsteps, on the outside.

Retreating.

Good.

He would remain undisturbed. 

Peaceful.

Empty.

It was better this way.

A lassitude filled him, grew out of him.

He was a host to a parasitic kind of nothingness.

It had metastasized. 

Terminal.

So he sat there, numb.

Staring.

Into nothing.

He was its focal point, he knew. 

Its source.

The poisoned well.

There was once someone…

Who said something.

Important.

But it didn’t come to him.

Perhaps that meant it wasn’t that important after all.

So he breathed.

That was necessary.

Without it, his body seized up.

He got dizzy.

Therefore, he avoided it.

For now.

Slow.

His heartbeat.

Good.

Finally calm.

It felt like his skin was hardening.

Turning into stone.

Or was it sand?

He was seeping through the cracks.

Being eroded.

Barren and dry.

Good thing it didn’t matter.

Didn’t hurt anymore.

Didn’t… anything.

Anymore.

Nothingness felt warm.

Someone was in the room. 

Didn’t matter.

He was hidden.

Words.

Didn’t understand them.

Didn’t reach.

A figure.

He didn’t recognize it.

Eyes fixed to the ceiling.

A hand on his shoulder.

He didn’t respond.

More words.

Vacant of meaning.

Just empty vocalizations.

Animal noises.

Garbled.

Meaningless.

Something was pulling at him.

Fruitlessly.

For he was stone.

Grunts of effort and then a curse.

Sounded like one.

Harsh.

Wanted to laugh, but his face wouldn’t move.

Like a death mask.

Baked over his living skin.

More words.

More footsteps.

More hands.

Male.

Female.

Strong.

They picked him up off the floor.

He allowed it.

Let them drag him away.

Perhaps he was going someplace softer.

Maybe there would be pretty lights in the sky.

Or a kind smile.

Two blue stars.

He missed them.

They seemed important, but he couldn’t remember why. 

The floor now.

Sterile.

Clean.

Just as it should be.

Words.

Worried.

Why, though? 

There was no need.

He was perfectly fine.

A new room.

Empty.

A bed.

Being rearranged on top of it so all his limbs fit.

It felt silly.

Couldn’t feel them.

They hung limply, like wet towels.

More worried words.

His Universal Translator must be broken. 

Nothing came through.

Nothing that made any sense.

Beeping.

Medical scanners.

Pointless.

There was nothing wrong with him.

He could have told them that.

Tried to.

None of his muscles obeyed.

Strange.

He was good at talking, usually.

Wasn’t he?

He stared at the ceiling.

It was similar.

Familiar.

A feeling of something cold on his forehead.

Round thing.

Who knew what it did.

The bustle around him continued.

Three figures.

Now four.

They were multiplying.

Mitosis.

It was funny.

Light in his eye.

Didn’t blink.

Made them water.

He stared up.

Through the ceiling.

Into the stars.

Looking for his.

It was somewhere beyond the docking ring.

Past that oval viewport.

In the upper left corner.

He wished to reach for it, but his limbs failed him.

It was frustrating.

A tortured keen materialized.

Lasted long.

Didn’t breathe.

On and on.

Whipping the figures into a frenzy.

Only one was calm.

Barking orders.

Felt soothing.

Unbroken.

Long.

Whiny.

Needy.

He needed that dot of light.

He was trapped in a deep ocean and,

The pressure was too strong. 

His throat tickled.

There was fluid in his ears.

Annoying.

Trembling in his body now.

Uncontrollable.

Incomprehensible.

Something against his neck.

A subtle hiss.

Calm.

The induced kind.

His muscles relinquished their hold.

Gave up on movement.

Stilled.

The figures retreated.

One by one.

Leaving one.

It sat by his side. 

Silent.

He wondered why.

It spoke.

In vain.

He wanted to tell it to save its breath, but couldn’t.

Frustrating.

Then the hands were on his forehead.

Smoothing his hair down backwards.

The right size.

The wrong texture.

Something cold slides down his neck.

Makes the softest noise when it lands.

He blinks.

It only makes it colder.

The hands touch.

And the mouth speaks.

Wrong face.

Wrong eyes.

Wrong everything.

But they are here, and he’s not alone.

So he closes his eyes and takes it all.

The touch and the words.

Feminine.

Soft.

He’s heard the voice before.

Hearing it doesn’t hurt.

Feels nice.

Almost like a mother’s.

Perhaps it is.

But not Amsha.

Someone else.

Someone who wouldn’t have traded him in, perhaps.

His throat feels tight.

Not thirst.

Something else.

A strange lump in there.

Shouldn’t be there.

The hands don’t stop.

Try to ground him.

Try to soothe.

But they fail.

Miserably.

Because he can tell they are wrong. 

What was it…

Words…

Spoken by a pair.

A melody.

The sound of Unity.

And he – the only disjointed part.

He ached for the missing piece.

Its absence was agonizing.

A broken sound.

Coincidental with the pain in his throat.

Nothing more.

More soothing words.

Kind.

Nice.

But the voice was wrong.

Deep, but not enough.

Soothing, but inferior.

He wanted…

Him.

Needed.

Ached for it.

His safety.

The cage of his hands.

Throat raw now.

Unnatural.

The word wouldn’t come.

He needed the cradle.

The light.

The Moon.

What was the word?

He keened.

A mournful sound he could still remember.

It came easily.

The hands left.

The voice too.

The body rose and disappeared. 

He was alone once more.

It scared him.

He whimpered.

The needles would come now – he knew.

The cold and the sterile smell.

The absence.

Unbearable.

He couldn’t move.

It was terrifying.

He needed someone to save him and take him away.

He was losing something.

Something irreplaceable.

His soul.

They were ripping his soul away again.

He fought it.

Screamed.

The sound of doors opening.

He strained against his invisible restraints.

Begged to be freed.

“What are you doing to him?!”

A clear voice said.

His voice.

Julian whimpered in relief.

He would know what to do.

He always knew.

“What did you give him, Zeyem?” Harsh voice. Accusatory. “It sounds like you put him on an enhancer –“

More words. The wrong kind. He didn’t listen. Didn’t matter. Only _his_ words mattered. Only his words meant safety and protection and kindness and-

“Reverse it, immediately! You’re triggering him!”

He knew.

He knew, he knew, he knew, he always knew.

His heart sang.

Thrashed.

Keened.

Another hiss against his neck.

“Who did this to him?”

The voice was nearly murderous.

It was lovely.

Protective.

He felt the chains falling off his limbs and his hands twitched.

“You found him like this? Where?”

Julian whimpered and then the right hands were on his forehead, taking the round thing off.

Smoothing the place it had been with his thumb.

His eyes overflowed.

“Are you trying to tell me you had no idea what caused it, and the last thing you know was him going into that room to make an important call? And that this was four hours ago?!” 

Anger. Visceral. Good. 

“I find your lack of vigilance appalling, Zeyem.”

He needed to make his hands move. 

Needed to signal his need.

Needed…

That looping image, over and over and over again…

The word… What was that word… He didn’t know what it meant, but…

He could imitate it.

Copy it.

_ Elim _ _ … _

Why was nothing coming out?

He strained his throat.

_ Elim _ _ ! _

Tears overflowed, impotent and angry.

Failure.

Over and over.

A long sound to start off…

A keen would do.

“-li-“

“I’m here, my dear. Don’t strain yourself.”

“Eeee-li-“

Not enough breath.

Protesting vocal chords.

Torn.

“-lim.”

“I’m here. Rest now.”

Something eased in his chest.

But he wasn’t ready yet. 

“He responds to you. That’s good. He didn’t respond to any of us. I think Ghar is off somewhere, crying - the poor girl.”

“What’s wrong, medically?”

“Nothing. His blood pressure is low, but there is no physical cause. My best guess would be that’s it’s something psychological. Have you ever seen him react in a similar manner?”

Silence.

“Yes. Never this bad, though.”

“I believe he has retreated too far into his mind.”

“Humans call it _dissociation_, I believe.”

“Not too terrible a descriptor.”

“No.”

“I shall leave you two alone. He’s beyond anyone else’s help now, anyway. Good luck.”

And then she retreated and his moon was out.

He focused on something other than the ceiling.

On the twin stars.

Blue and burning.

_ For me. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff is coming!
> 
> Thoughts always welcome! :)


	55. So Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian confesses his feelings to Elim.

Julian's hand was being held.

As soon as his body allowed it, he snaked his fingers through Elim’s.

Looked him in the eyes. 

Needed to.

It was the only safe place.

The only thing he was certain wouldn’t crumble under his feet, or wither from his touch.

The only constant left in the cold vastness of the Universe.

“Julian… Who did this to you?” Elim said sadly.

_ Nobody. _

Just a few unfortunately timed words.

They mattered little now.

Because he was found.

Again.

He felt his lips attempting to quirk up. 

Didn’t work.

So he let his eyes speak instead. 

_ I’m so glad you found me. _

_ I’m so happy to see you. _

_ I… _

A few blinks.

Uncertainty.

Fear.

_ Thank you for being here. _

_ Thank you for knowing what I need. _

_ Knowing that I need you. _ _ _

_ _

Elim’s gaze softened perceptibly.

“Always, my dear Julian. I hope that hasn’t been in question.”

_ Never. _ _ _

_ I never doubted you for a moment. _

An understated smile of satisfaction.

So beautiful.

_ I love you, Elim. _

_ I thought… _

_ I thought I was dying without you. _

_ _

“Sssh, beloved. I understand. I’m not leaving.”

_ Please, never do. _

_ I would wither without you. _

_ Just like your lovely Edosian orchids… _

A hand on his forehead.

Touching, caressing the place his _chufa_ would be.

Perhaps he was delusional, but he felt soothed by it.

Tears came again, but they weren’t painful.

It was joy.

He was crying from joy and relief.

_ I am loved. _

_ And I love, in turn. _

_ Why would anything else matter? _

_ _

Ezri’s words were a poisoned blade, embedded deep in his heart, but Elim had found the wound.

Elim would draw it out.

And they would heal it together.

He was shaking from the emotion.

It was so powerful.

So dizzying.

He needed words now.

He needed them desperately, because-

_ “Careful, Elim. _ _ You know perfectly well that the surest way to your heart is through conversation.” _

And the surest way to lose Elim was to communicate poorly.

And Julian couldn’t bear it.

Not anymore.

_ Not again. _

_ Never again. _

He wanted to learn from his mistakes, have them nourish him and make him stronger.

His soil was no longer barren, and he was heated by a most determined sun.

The hands of the Gardener were patient and sure. 

His breaths were swift and his lips trembled.

This was right.

He _knew_ it was.

Nothing else made sense.

“I love you,” He rasped, eyes wide in awe. “Elim… I _adore_ you…” A cough interrupted his words, but he paid it little heed.

All that mattered was the answering look on that wonderful face.

Elim’s worried expression melted away like snow in spring.

His heart thawed and his smile blossomed, more beautiful than the Cardassian dawn.

It stole Julian’s breath away.

“I won’t reject you,” Cough. “Anymore… I don’t- think I can…”

“My dear, there’s no need to speak. You will hurt your throat.”

Julian shook his head abruptly to the side, as if shaking off some pest.

Cardassian equivalent of saying: Nonsense.

“Irrelevant,” He croaked. “You need to… know.”

“We can speak in the morning, once you’ve rested.”

“Then…” He drew a raspy, painful breath, “Take me home.”

The smile bestowed upon him was a blessing.

And Julian knew he would get his wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entering the fluffy stretch now!
> 
> Hope you liked it, drop me a line or two! :)


	56. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak takes Julian home to recuperate.

Elim carried him to the skimmer. Bridal style.

It should have felt emasculating, perhaps, but it didn’t. Not anymore. Instead, Julian felt right at home.

Like this was how it was supposed to be.

Ironic, perhaps.

Still felt right.

“Let’s get you home.” Elim murmured against his ear and Julian smiled.

_ I’m already home _ , he thought.

“Garak! Take these,” Zeyem walked briskly up to them. “It will soothe his throat.”

Julian flushed.

She’d found him and called for help.

She’d been worried for him.

Sat by his bedside.

Pet his hair.

“Th-thank you… Moje.” He spoke coarsely, hoping his audaciousness would be taken as intended.

Something soft and caring flitted across her face and then she huffed.

“I see exactly what stole your heart – this human of yours is a menace!”

Garak laughed and held him tighter.

“He’s taken, Zeyem. Don’t forget that.” Elim said with a theatrical grin.

“As if I could! Two air men! You deserve each other! Now off you go, I’m busy.”

Garak headed for the skimmer but all Julian could think about were the words…

Taken.

Would he be?

_ Taken… _

The thought made his face heat up uncontrollably. 

“You’re running hotter, my dear…”

Julian groaned.

For someone who supposedly frowned on public displays of affection, Elim seemed determined to provoke them.

“I will make you some tea.”

It was such a caring statement.

But then he was being lowered into a seat and buckled in and he missed the contact.

So he kept looking at Elim and extended his shaking hand.

It was accepted and he sighed in contentment. 

The ride didn’t take very long and he spent every last second of it looking at Elim.

All the questions in his mind evaporated.

Of course.

Of course he loved this man.

It seemed the most natural thing in the world.

Just sitting here, holding hands and looking into his wonderfully expressive blue eyes.

It was everything he needed.

His heart was beating calmly, for once, and a feeling of complete serenity washed over him.

He’d never felt so at ease before. 

In this place, with Elim, he was grounded.

No longer scattered to the winds, no longer unfocused and flighty.

Intent.

Observant.

Full.

He smiled widely.

Let emotion overtake and animate his face. 

He’d found it.

His place.

His home.

His safe harbor.

And when he felt the skimmer descending, he took Elim in as he unbuckled both of them, gently, then picked him up again without a word.

There was the briefest incline of his head to thank the pilot, and then they were heading out. 

Into the Cardassian night.

Julian’s eyes were drawn to the sky, which was clear.

Just like in his dreams.

Two moons were out tonight, but it didn’t matter because his favorite was always by his side.

Cradled.

Wished to repay the kindness.

There would be plenty of time, he knew.

Once they were safely inside, Elim sat him down on the cot and caressed his face briefly.

“I’ll go make us some red leaf tea. Would you like that, my dear?”

Julian moved his chin up in a little wave, up and over and then down again.

_ Yes _ .

Elim’s answering smile was radiant.

_ I put it there… _ Julian thought. 

It made him feel warm. 

It made him feel like he was doing good.

He sat on the cot and observed.

Elim was humming again.

This time Julian recognized what it was.

The original melody sung at the Oralian Way.

Then the melody Elim used to complement it with.

His throat wouldn’t allow it, but his heart sang it instead. 

Elim’s hands were sure, though almost languid. So deliberate and measured as they set the kettle up; so precise as they sprinkled tea leaves into the scalding liquid, transforming it like an alchemist.

_ “Stitch by stitch, a humble work; _

_ In his eyes and his hands; _

_ Only kindness.” _ _ _

Ziyal had been right.

This was the natural state of Elim’s being.

Before incursions were made into his soul to corrupt it.

Julian felt absurdly privileged to witness it.

The simplest things were suddenly wondrous.

And Julian was once again transported to that endless green plain.

It was so lush and full of life.

And when he looked at his hands and his body, there were golden tendrils of solid light spilling out of him; ever reaching for-

_ Elim _ _ . _ _ _

Who stood before him with a cup of tea.

Julian closed his hands around the mug, around Elim’s fingers and just stared, transfixed.

He could swear Elim was bathed in a golden glow, only even more blinding than his own.

_ I love you _ . His heart sang.

_ You make me feel alive. _

_ My strength, my rain, my- _

_ _

“Everything…” He rasped, looking into Elim’s eyes.

“Beloved…” Those gentle lips spoke soothingly, “Don’t speak. I understand you perfectly. Now, drink your tea and take one of these pastilles Zeyem was gracious enough to prepare for you.”

He was understood.

He was seen.

He flashed a brilliant smile and took the offering gratefully.

The pastille tasted vaguely citrusy and he let it slowly dissolve on his tongue.

The tea would need more time to cool before he could drink. 

Elim took his own cup and then sat next to him.

The silence was comfortable.

Nurturing.

Elim’s ridges were bathed in silver light.

His hair shone, but not brighter than his eyes.

So they drank their tea in silence.

And once their cups were drained, Elim handed him his sleeping attire and Julian divested in front of him.

There was no shame anymore.

“My dear…” It made Julian look up. “You really shouldn’t excite me so.”

Lies.

Julian knew.

But it wasn’t time yet.

So he just smiled warmly and got dressed in his shirt and light cotton trousers.

Garak merely grinned and disrobed in silence.

The sight was beautiful.

Modest.

Simple.

Just a man donning his pajamas.

Without needing a prompt, Julian took the mattress leaning against the wall and placed it in front of the cot.

Lay on it.

A clear invitation.

_ Come sleep next to me. _

_ I will keep you warm. _

Elim , smart and perceptive, merely smiled softly and lay next to him.

Julian let the blanket drape over them both.

And when Elim kissed his _chufa_ again, Julian closed his eyes and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you like this sweetness? There's plenty more to come! :)


	57. Waking Up To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian awakens in Garak's arms.
> 
> Sleepy conversation and sweetness ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, Happy New Year to all my wonderful readers! Hope you have lots of fun today!
> 
> Next, I can't believe this fic is already over 100k words... I have no idea how much it will have once it's done! 200k is possible... 
> 
> Lastly, enjoy! This one is mostly joy and fluff. :)

Julian luxuriated in the feeling of being held. Remarkably clear-headed, he opened his eyes. 

Elim’s were closed and he was smiling in his sleep.

_ So beautiful _ , Julian thought.

It was early still, but he had to get up soon, or he would be late to work. 

Regardless, he watched. 

Mesmerized by the play of light and shadow on Elim’s exquisitely sculpted face.

Sneaking closer, he buried his nose in his friend’s hair and inhaled deeply. 

His was such a soothing scent. 

He smiled lazily and nuzzled against the man’s jaw and ear ridges.

“Mmh, I don’t know what you’re doing, my dear, but it feels nice…”

Julian grinned and continued his gentle exploration.

“I’m nuzzling you.” He murmured.

Elim snorted.

“You don’t want to know how poorly my UT translated that.”

Julian laughed, bright-eyed and gazed at him in unabashed curiosity.

“Well, now you have to tell me!”

With an adorable little grumble, Elim’s eyes cracked open a fraction.

“I guess the closest approximation would be – snouting.”

“What? Hah,” Julian wheezed. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“Animals, rubbing their snouts together.”

Julian huffed in amusement.

“I guess that’s close enough.”

Elim gave a little sigh and turned to face him, still obviously sleepy and mumbled:

“It’s completely undignified…”

Julian wanted to tease him about it, but when the man snuggled in and rubbed his ridged nose against his cheek and the shell of his ear, all words escaped.

It was adorable.

“You’re adorable, Elim.” Julian admitted softly. Gladly. “Utterly, entrancingly, disarmingly so.”

“That must be… the strangest flattery I’ve ever heard.” Elim groused, making Julian laugh.

“Is it flattery if it’s entirely honest?” Julian asked.

Elim grinned in a self-important manner, his eyes still closed.

“My dear; that is the best kind.”

Julian chuckled. He’d never thought of it that way. 

His own little moan was surprising.

Elim’s hand was lazily crawling up his body, underneath his flimsy shirt.

“Ah!” He arched into the touch involuntarily, gasping the man’s name.

“What is it, Julian?” The Cardassian murmured sleepily.

“You’re quite-uh-handsy this morning, would you-ah-“ Julian’s skin burned. “Elim, please-“ He uttered breathlessly.

“Yes, my dear?” Elim muttered smugly, lazily, almost like he was daring him to say what he wanted.

Well, that was slightly embarrassing, because Julian had a feeling Garak knew exactly what he wanted, what with the evidence of his interest currently trapped between their bodies, but his mind hadn’t quite caught up yet, so he wished this situation wouldn’t further escalate because he needed to speak to Elim first. But damn, it was hard to breathe and even harder to resist such intoxicating touches…

“Elim-oh-please… Stop… Just for now, I-“

The hand slowed its ascent and stopped in the middle of his chest. 

The look in those clear eyes was worried again.

“I-ah…” Julian tried to catch his breath, knowing full well Elim needed to be reassured. “I have no intention of rejecting your advances, Elim… I-uh-“ He said sheepishly. “I don’t think I’m capable of saying no to this… Or to you. Not anymore.”

When there was only marginal relief on the man’s features, Julian swallowed and went on:

“I…” His heart was beating too fast and he was feeling slightly light-headed. 

“Elim, I… Surely you’ve noticed that I… Respond to you. Uh-quite favorably at that.”

With that he turned his eyes away, flustered and flushing.

“I want you, obviously…” He said through a whisper and tried to get his breathing under control. 

“Why do you step away, then?” Elim asked, his face serious and drawn. 

Julian’s eyes snapped open and found Elim’s.

_ Honesty. _

He let himself be open and vulnerable.

“Because I am afraid.” He said earnestly, without breaking eye-contact. 

“Of me? Or is it because of my gender? My race?”

All relevant questions. Julian acknowledged them all; in the order they were presented. 

“I’m not afraid of you, Elim. I trust you, I feel safe with you, and you know this. I know you do.”

There. Visible relief. Though, there was still some tension left.

“As for you being a man…” Julian felt a pulsing between his thighs and drew a shuddering breath.

“That… is not an issue.”

And it wouldn’t be. As long as there was attraction, and there was plenty of that, the gender mattered little.

“I may never have lain with a man before, but… It doesn’t matter. I know it can… work.”

“How circumspect of you,” Elim’s smile was one of predatory appraisal. “How Cardassian.”

“I respect you and your people. You know this. You see it in my every gesture, so how can you still worry about the possibility of me rejecting you for it?”

“There was disgust on your face, Julian. I know you well enough to distinguish it.”

Julian sighed.

How could he explain it without ruining everything?

“I was simply terrified, Elim… Please believe me when I say that…” Julian locked gazes with his-

What was he now?

More than a friend.

Less than a lover.

_ Lover… _

_ Future lover. _ _ _

The thought scalded him.

“I’ve never felt like this before… No one’s ever come so close to the core of my being and not shied away from the mess inside. I got used to hiding who and what I was because I knew it would be rejected. I knew _I_ would be rejected. But you… You never shied away from the ruin I was. Never eschewed the challenge… And I want you, all of you, just the way you are - and I observe you and see all of the things I once missed in my obliviousness… Every tiny detail I couldn’t appreciate before…” 

He trailed off, lost in the emotion.

“You won’t… change your mind?” Elim asked cautiously.

“Why would I?” Julian breathed heavily. “No one’s ever made me feel like you do. I don’t think anyone else can…”

“Are you sure?” Elim reiterated, uncertainty in his tortured gaze.

And Julian knew his answer. 

“Yes, Elim. I am sure.”

Elim released a long-held breath and moved closer. 

There was a question in his eyes and Julian replied in the affirmative, chin rolling up and then down and then Elim was upon him, his kisses a sweet rain against his parched lips. 

He loved.

He _was_ loved.

And he was finally awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like the sweetness? I will only go sweeter than this! 
> 
> As always, thrilled to hear your thoughts!


	58. Accepted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elim is very distracting in the morning.
> 
> Julian goes to work and the reaction of his colleagues surprises him.

Things were getting slightly out of hand.

“Elim-“ He tried to speak between the kisses, but would get so lost in the feel and the taste, that he could do little but moan into the man’s warm mouth.

“I have to-“

Another wicked interruption. Languid and slow.

“Mmh-get to work-“

Elim didn’t care. He was too busy enjoying the power he held over him. Julian could taste it in the quirking corners of his lips.

So mischievous and cruel.

It delighted him.

“Elim!” He tried more sternly, but it only seemed to spur the Cardassian on.

“This outfit doesn’t really leave much-“

Another deep kiss.

“-to the imagination!”

Eyes blazing with desire.

“Perhaps you should reconsider your choice of wardrobe, then? Start wearing tunics?”

Julian laughed breathlessly.

“Oh, is that why they are a staple of Cardassian fashion? The need to hide arousal caused by frisky, conniving-“

“Oh, is that the skimmer I hear?” Garak said innocently. “Such a _shame_.”

Indeed it was.

Julian needed to learn Cardassian curses so he could cuss out Garak for this terrible predicament it left him in. 

“And what am I to do about this now, hm?” Julian said exasperatedly. 

“Imagine Zeyem giving oo-mox to Quark.”

“Ewww!” Julian exclaimed and swatted Garak’s chest. “That’s gross!”

“Quite.” Elim agreed soberly. “It it working?”

“Yes…” Julian whined. “It is, damn you.”

“I will see you after work, my dear.” Elim said sweetly.

“I hate you.” Julian grumbled petulantly.

“You should work on your lies, dear.” The man said airily. “They are too obvious.”

Julian rolled his eyes and took off. 

***

When he got to work that morning and stepped into the infirmary, he was greeted by silence. He looked at the two male nurses, Trengem and Gaddik, who were exchanging subtle glances.

Ghar whipped around and just stared for a second or two.

He felt supremely awkward and said:

“W-what?”

This was really strange. He needed to break the tension. He needed a Cardassian idiom suitable, but the best thing his mind managed to come up with was:

“You look like you’ve seen the Mogrund.” 

Mogrund was, of course, the Cardassian equivalent of Baba Yaga, or some other fictitious monster used to frighten little children into obedience. Or so Garak had claimed in his letter.

Gaddik started laughing and… _giggling_. It sounded slightly hysterical, but not in a nervous-breakdown sort of way. 

Trengem looked at Gaddik with a softly bemused expression. 

He was startled out of his observations when a body flew at him, locking him in an embrace. 

“Bashir!” Ghar cried out in distress, as she all but hung around his neck. “You’re back!”

He kept his hands up, eyes wide and roving around slightly desperately. He didn’t know how to hug her – which part was he supposed to hold? He’d never really seen Cardassians hug, at least nowhere near often enough to judge what was appropriate. 

Trengem came to his rescue.

“Ghar, you’re making him uncomfortable.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed and promptly retreated, offering him a small formal bow of apology. “Please forgive my inappropriate reaction, Doctor Bashir.” She said abashedly.

“Uh, it’s no problem, Junior Researcher Ghar. I was just surprised. May I know what this was all about?”

She floundered a bit, trying to formulate a response.

Nurse Gaddik answered with a softer expression than usual.

“Ghar isn’t used to dealing with psychological ailments and when she saw your deep retreat and mind split, she got upset. No offense, Akot, but you are young.”

She blushed fiercely at that and stared at her feet in embarrassment. It was kind of cute.

“Telat…” Trengem sighed.

Gaddik merely looked amused. 

Wait a second. 

Julian remembered that name. 

He’d heard it just yesterday, in that conversation between Zeyem and Trengem, held over the comm… when they’d been discussing gifts for the nurse’s significant other. 

Telat was the name of… 

Trengem’s lover.

His cheeks flushed immediately at the realization.

Why had he assumed it was a woman? Now, when he replayed the conversation between Zeyem and Trengem, the gender had never been specified. Julian groaned internally. If he were better versed in Cardassian customs and names, he never would have simply assumed the man’s lover was a woman, after all…

_ Elim _ _ and I are both men… _

_ _

It was weird thinking about it. Everything was still too fresh in his mind. 

“Vonek, you need to let up a little. I blame you for Bashir keeping his distance, you know!”

“Dearest,” Trengem said scathingly, “This isn’t the time…”

Gaddik didn’t seem to care and he approached Bashir nonchalantly. When he offered his palm, Julian was floored. 

“This is a greeting between friends, Bashir. It’s a gesture of polite affection.” Gaddik explained helpfully.

Julian blurted:

“I-I know that, I’m just… surprised you would extend it to me.”

Gaddik offered a bright smile.

“I would like us to be friends, Bashir. If you are agreeable, that is.”

Julian moved his chin to indicate a yes and pressed his slightly shaky palm against Gaddik’s.

“Excellent!” The man said and dropped the gesture after about a second.

Julian was left quite confused. 

Elim usually held on for far longer.

Did it mean different things the longer you kept it up?

Trengem grumbled and approached, looking at Gaddik with a familiar kind of exasperation mingled with annoyance. The look clearly communicated: _The things you make me do…_ and then, with a long-suffering sigh, the man offered his palm as well. 

Humbled by the man’s willingness to stretch his personal boundaries for the sake of his lover, Julian performed the gesture once more. 

It lasted no more than a second and he was surprised at the look of such rich fondness in Gaddik’s eyes, directed at Trengem. 

_ I knew you could do it. _ They said. _I am proud of you_.

“Me too!” Ghar said enthusiastically and Julian had to suppress a laugh at the impatient little shuffle of her feet, almost like she was about to bounce up and down like an overly excited child. 

With a fond smile of his own, Julian obliged her. He held on a second and a half and then pulled his hand back.

Her smile was wide and her expression giddy.

“What’s this?” A chiding voice drawled and Ghar froze like a deer in headlights.

“Zeyem!” Bashir turned around, delighted to hear her deep voice. 

“Little Bashir.” Her stern façade melted away. 

He was struck with the desire to rush into her embrace the same way Ghar rushed into his. 

She rolled her eyes at him.

“Come here, silly human.”

His eyes watered and he eliminated the distance between them in a single stride, falling into her arms like a prodigal son. 

“You had us all worried.” She said simply, but it sounded extremely caring, coming from her.

There was such safety in her arms. 

He basked in it shamelessly.

“Thank you for yesterday… For… finding me and… and staying with me.”

“You recognized me?” Zeyem said in soft surprise.

“I did…” He confessed. “Sorry I couldn’t respond… Were you the one who contacted Elim?”

“Yes, I was.” She confirmed.

“That was… a good call.”

“Such faith in my judgement, little Bashir!”

Sarcasm suited her. It made him laugh and then they separated. 

Julian took a moment to appreciate and soak up the vibrantly positive energy in the room.

He was finally accepted here.

Appreciated.

Valued.

His heart swelled with emotion.

“Could we all get back to work now, please?” Her eyes narrowed at each of them.

A chorus of amused and abashed “Yes, Head Zeyem” filled the air.

And Julian felt…

Whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff! More sweetness!
> 
> Hope you had a great night! :)
> 
> Once you recover from your hangover, I shall be anxiously awaiting your comments, opinions, and speculation!


	59. He Is So Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian thinks about the wonderful day he's had.
> 
> When he gets back to the shed, he finds a guest waiting and engages him in conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder how many of my readers think I'm a writing machine, haha!
> 
> I am not. Merely had a head start. I've never been this productive in my entire life.
> 
> I have some news, namely, I've composed a piano piece for this fic. If anyone is interested, I shall record it and link it for you. :)

Julian was thrilled to go home. Today had been such a good day. There was a feeling of unity among the staff that had been missing before. Even the ever reserved Trengem seemed more open than usual, likely due to Gaddik’s gentle admonishments. Now, when he knew the two men were… _together,_ he wondered how he didn’t notice it before. The signs had always been there. The gentle looks, the constant non-verbal communication, the way they would brush against one another in passing. It seemed innocuous, but Julian realized they didn’t do that with any of the other employees or patients. Just with one another.

Perhaps they never even bothered hiding it and Julian was just blind to the meaning of their subtle gestures. It wouldn’t be the first time social cues and their nuance eluded him, after all, he was notorious for it. 

Jadzia had been exasperated by it.

Miles had rolled his eyes.

Kira gnashed her teeth.

Ezri huffed.

Only Elim… smiled.

And guided him through it.

So patiently.

Julian couldn’t wait to see the man again. He was almost embarrassingly giddy with anticipation, because he got to go home, see Elim, press his palm against that gray, coarse hand and keep it there for a long, long time and then ask whether the length of the contact meant anything.

It had to, didn’t it?

Then he remembered Ezri’s distorted, screaming face and shuddered.

She knew exactly where to strike, didn’t she? Just like a doctor would. Or an assassin.

Elim had never wounded him like that. Even in his anger, the worst he managed to tell Julian is that he hated him. And that he had a smug and sanctimonious face. 

Julian would have happily settled for that from Ezri. It would have been infinitely more bearable. 

There was an icy splinter embedded in his heart.

It needed to be drawn out.

Julian knew he would see Elim soon, but he still missed him.

The skimmer was otherwise occupied, so Julian got to walk home.

_ Home… _

Tolan’s shed felt more like home than any place he’d ever lived with his parents; more than Paris, more than…

More than DS9.

It was a startling realization.

He felt like he was glowing. It was such a curious and unexpected feeling. 

Buoyant.

Powerful.

As he passed some Cardassians, he greeted them wordlessly, politely.

They seemed taken aback, but he just smiled warmly. 

Elim had adapted to be perfectly innocuous and polite on DS9.

He needed to, to survive his long and painful exile.

But this wasn’t exile to Julian. 

His friendliness wasn’t forced, or simulated.

It was entirely genuine. 

He loved these industrious, deeply complex people. He loved their subtle gestures and their patterns of conversation. He loved their passionate nature and their mastery over their minds and bodies. 

He loved how unrestrained in their affection they could be, once you were deserving of it. 

It felt earned, and was therefore way sweeter and more rewarding than any contrived human pleasantry.

Elim had been right. 

Humans expected the first impression to be correct. 

A tailor was just a tailor, a doctor no more than a doctor – people’s function serving as their sole descriptor. It seemed so… _reductive_ now. 

Cardassians always knew there was more behind the professional mask.

Of course, they could draw the wrong conclusions, nobody was immune to that, but they didn’t stumble about the world expecting things to be exactly the way they appeared to be and then acted so surprised and appalled when they turned out to be wrong. 

_ We can be such entitled creatures… _

It was a sobering thought. 

He’d been an entitled prick with Elim before. 

He’d expected, _wanted_ the man to be a spy. He wished to be embroiled in intrigue and excitement, but only on his delusional terms. Garak had actually given him a taste of real spy work, but Julian had been disappointed that the reality didn’t measure up to his ridiculous fantasy.

What he _claimed_ he wanted was entirely different from what he _actually_ wanted. 

Elim had noticed that also.

Called him out on it in his letter - chidingly, softly.

Gently.

All this time, Elim had been guiding him along, only Julian couldn’t see the path.

He’d seen only obstacles.

Trees.

But never the forest.

He let these insights nourish him, easing the residual weariness from the bitter break up with Ezri.

Julian knew he’d handled it poorly.

As always.

But he had someone who would help him recover. Perhaps, if he looked at the situation as Elim repaying the favor for the incident with the wire… 

Still, Julian didn’t believe the tailor actually owed him anything.

I saved him.

I shot him.

He hurt me.

Tried to kill me.

Tried to kill himself.

Their history was so complicated, so convoluted and thorny and insane… Yet…

_ He’d always been there. _

_ Waiting in the darkness. _ _ _

_ _

Julian laughed out loud.

The irony amused him.

It was funny that a creature which dwelled in the night, draped and hid and fed on shadows, could possess such fierce light. 

Julian wanted to bask in it, and for once didn’t feel like he was a black hole that would tarnish or extinguish Elim’s brilliant light, no…

He was fuel. 

Being fueled.

Together, they were such a bright star system.

His heart was overflowing with warmth.

When he finally approached the monuments built by his beloved friend…

_ Beloved. _

He wished to say the words in native Kardassi. 

Hear them, too.

“Oh, Doctor Bashir!” A bright, young voice greeted.

“Pem!” Julian smiled widely and rushed closer, offering his open palm. 

The young man startled at that and his eyes watered.

“Uh, Doctor, you shouldn’t be offering me that…”

“Why not?” Julian said gently. “I don’t care about your status or lack thereof. You are a Cardassian. I will show you the respect you deserve.”

“But-“ Pem seemed flustered as he shuffled the various cylinders in his hands. “Why would you… I have nothing, why would you want to be friends with me?”

Julian gave him a warm look and touched his elbow gently.

“Humans don’t see friendship as a way to get anything out of anyone… It is merely a way to connect with a person we like or find interesting. Their status, job or education mean nothing. At least to me.”

Pem seemed at a loss for words.

Julian searched for a more suitable explanation.

“You have been to a meeting of the Oralian Way. You know the connection between individuals is the most important thing – the tendrils of light that extend from one person to the next? Is there room for coldness and isolation in her teachings?”

Pem swallowed and seriously considered his words. 

“Crin,” Julian said caringly, “We all affect one another. Why shouldn’t we choose to make that influence a positive and nurturing one?”

The boy seemed shaken, but touched. 

“Your relationship with Eja is so strong, so beautiful. Even I, a complete stranger could see it. The bond between you two showed me that Cardassia was infinitely more than I thought it was. It shattered my misconceptions and opened my eyes to the truth that we are all a little more… wonderful than we think.”

“I see Cardassia has made a poet out of you, my dear.” Elim’s voice drifted in and Julian turned to see the man surprisingly close. He guessed Pem didn’t notice the spy’s sneaky approach either.

“Elim.” Julian spoke with honey in his voice and extended his palm happily.

The tailor took it with a kind smile and held it, pairing it with a fond look.

Julian didn’t wish to tear his hand or his eyes away, and timed the gesture, wondering when Elim would disengage. 

Five seconds.

Ten.

Fifteen.

It was at roughly sixteen and a half that Elim’s palm slipped, slowly, caressing his hand on its way to gently grasp his wrist and smooth his fingers over it gently before retreating. 

It was such a complex and gorgeous gesture.

So loving.

“I apologize for scandalizing you, Pem. My beloved has a poor grasp on our customs.” Elim said placidly, and Julian wanted to smack him.

“We are working on it.” Garak said with a patient and suffering sigh.

“Elim, stop smearing my good name in public.” Julian said with mild irritation at Elim’s antics. 

The tailor merely laughed and made a dismissive hand gesture.

Julian only now noticed that Elim was beginning to use Cardassian gestures more openly before him and wasn’t sure whether they’d always been there, merely mistranslated, or the man was finally abandoning the forceful adaptation made in his exile.

Julian wished to see them all.

Savor them.

“Oh, no! I-I’m not offended!” The boy floundered, even though the color of his neck ridges betrayed him. 

“I see you’ve brought your calligraphy with you.” Elim said with unfeigned interest. 

It was a shamelessly effective way to change the topic. 

“Yes!” Pem said eagerly, clutching his cylinders tightly, likely in an unconscious instinct to protect them, or merely out of nervousness.

“Well, let’s go inside and have a look at them over a nice cup of tea, what do you say?” Elim said pleasantly and Julian could see the subtle warmth bleeding through. 

This meant Elim was genuinely invested in seeing the young man’s art. 

It was lovely.

“Of course, you’re too kind!” Pem almost bowed again, but Garak forestalled it by grasping the boy’s forearm. 

“Stop bowing for every little thing, you are a man. People will treat you how you treat yourself.”

The words were half-steel, half fatherly advice. 

Julian was surprised to see Pem actually standing up straighter at that. 

“Now, let’s see what lovely art you brought, hmm?” Elim said warmly and ushered the young man towards the shack.

_ He’s so good with people _ . Julian thought.

_ Why did I never notice before? _

_ _

Smiling widely, he followed them inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julian is so in love! Hope you don't find it too saccharine... ;>>


	60. On Cardassian Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak gives some advice to Pem and they discuss the nature of Cardassian art.
> 
> Julian listens avidly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We continue right where we left off!
> 
> Small update: I composed two pieces for this fic, and they are now in the beginning notes of chapters 3 and 5, respectively. For convenience's sake, I shall post them here for those of you who are up to speed with the fic!
> 
> [Blind Moon main theme](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190037628876/phew-main-theme-for-my-fanfiction-under-the)   
and  
[Upper Left Corner of the Viewport](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190042512191/under-the-blind-moon-another-song-for-my)
> 
> The second one embodies Julian's yearning, and as such is perfect with chapter 5, "Arboretum". Though, any instance where he's pining is also suitable.

Julian observed the scene fondly. 

Pem was sitting next to him, with a lap precariously overflowing with cylinders, trying to hold onto his cup of _choban_ without spilling it. His fidgeting really wasn’t helping much and it made Julian suppress an amused smile. 

“Let’s put those aside, shall we?” Garak offered politely and Pem’s neck ridges flushed a dark bluish gray. 

“I-ah, s-sure.” The boy stammered and Julian was vaguely reminded of himself on that first meeting at the Replimat. Except Pem was even more embarrassed and tongue-tied.

Garak did not let that deter him and took the cylinders gently, stacking them neatly on the table, but kept one as he sat on his stool, which was now closer to the cot, enabling them all to speak face to face. 

“There’s no reason to be nervous, Pem.” Julian spoke kindly, “Garak is only harsh with his critiques on my fashion choices. And human literature.”

Elim looked at him in exasperation. 

“It is not my fault your kind has a penchant for garishly mismatching color schemes and patterns… Or revoltingly saccharine displays of sentimentality. How your species ever managed to get anything done is beyond me!”

“Har har, Elim.” Julian said sarcastically. “If I was always tastefully dressed in the latest Cardassian fashion, I would deprive you of the joy you get from verbally dismantling my choice in apparel.”

“And you are too considerate by far, my dear, to deprive me of my simple pleasures.”

Julian wanted to retort, but the young man next to him was currently choking on his tea.

When he turned to look at Pem, the boy’s eyes were too wide in the middle of his pale ridges and Julian realized their banter had made the young artist uncomfortable.

“Too much, huh?” Julian said, slightly embarrassed himself. “I’m sorry, Pem. I guess this is… too forward for Cardassian tastes.”

“N-no!” Pem coughed slightly, trying to rein in his slight panic. “I’m just-“ He stared, wide-eyed at them both, and then looked to Garak, as if he needed his approval to speak his opinion.

“Pem…” Garak spoke slowly. “My father was a simple gardener, and while he may have been in charge of the Tarlak Grounds, he was but a service man, just like myself. Just like you. I am not your superior and neither is Bashir. This War… the Fire… It changed everything. Everyone. You need to accept these changes and carve a place for yourself in this new Cardassia. Don’t let others do it for you.”

Pem’s nervousness melted away, leaving only a somber and thoughtful face. 

“Now, let me see this work of yours.” Garak said simply and opened the first cylinder. 

Julian couldn’t rightly see or even understand what he was seeing, but watching Elim unfurl the crisp paper made him remember Ziyal’s charcoal drawing. 

The play of emotions on Elim’s face was fascinating to watch. 

He was so focused on it, so absorbed. He took in every detail, every nuance and remained quiet for a long moment. 

Julian couldn’t tell what Elim was feeling exactly, but it seemed to affect him on some deep level.

His face was calm and solemn as he looked Pem straight in the eyes and asked:

“Would you be willing to part with this piece? I am willing to offer a fair price.”

Pem seemed utterly flabbergasted by the statement.

“B-but! I’m not even an artist-“

Garak forestalled the boy by raising his palm with a flick of his fingers. It was a gesture to stop speaking.

“Vision and emotion is what makes an artist. Not some Institute’s approval.”

Pem’s eyes welled with tears, which he tried valiantly to suppress. 

“I must show this piece to Ghemor, my young friend; because I am certain he would agree with me.”

Tears overflowed at that.

“I-I am humbled…” The boy mumbled in profound gratitude.

“If he has any taste, and I have been led to believe that he has, you will soon have your sponsor.” Elim said simply, like it was no big deal, but the young man was completely overwhelmed by the offer. 

“I don’t deserve your kindness, sir.” Pem said with his head lowered.

Garak laughed.

“It is not kindness, Pem, but plain self-interest. Ghemor is a charismatic man, of that there is no doubt, but he lacks a certain… theatricality. Imagine this phrase, carved into a monument, in some central place on Tarlak. Can you fathom the impact it would have?”

Pem raised his head and stared at Elim, rendered completely speechless.

“What does it say, Elim?” Julian asked, curious what could be so meaningful that it made Elim offer something so grand virtually on a whim. 

“Look for yourself, my dear.” The tailor said and turned the piece towards him, so he could better discern it.

It reminded him vaguely of a mixture of medieval and Japanese calligraphy, except it looked more… expressionist, for lack of a better term. He lacked the words and the context to describe it. It looked both refined and raw at the same time and he wondered whether that was simply the staple of Early Union Style, as Elim had called it. 

It was beautiful, poetic… Impactful.

But he had no idea what it said. One of the words was very familiar, but he wasn’t sure whether he was right about its meaning, so he chose not to disclose it.

“I am very sorry to say, but I cannot read this.”

Elim sighed and gave him a very put upon look.

“I chose a barbarian.” The man said mournfully.

Julian laughed. 

Pem answered for Elim.

“It says: _I shall dream of a strong Cardassia…”_

The words, even in Pem’s soft and tentative voice, made Julian gasp from the full force of their meaning. His eyes flew to Elim’s, who was now regarding him softly.

“I see why you offered to buy it now…” Julian murmured.

“Indeed.” Elim inclined his head in acknowledgment.

“It’s… not as smooth as it could be…” Pem muttered, obviously ashamed of the quality of his work.

“Why does it have to be?” Elim countered with supreme poise and dignity. He suddenly seemed much taller and more imposing. “Its impact hides in the visceral nature of these brush strokes. After all, the value of Cardassian literature and art had always lain in the beauty of the unexpressed and the subtlety of the implied.”

Julian was struck speechless. 

To him…

_ The beauty of the unexpressed and the subtlety of the implied… _

The words were fire – molten, hot and languid.

_ Kanar _ _ _ on his tongue, heating his throat on its way down to his belly.

His heart was beating in his chest like a drum.

Wild and full of craving.

He closed his eyes and tried to rein himself in. 

“Thank you… Garak.” Pem said with utmost gravitas. 

Elim smiled, evidently satisfied. A small smirk tugged at the edges of his gray lips.

“That is a good expression you have there, Pem. Use it more often.”

The young man seemed more self-possessed now, more… Grounded. Almost as if he’d found a new kind of self-awareness or self-esteem. He looked more… confident. 

“I will.”

Elim clearly approved of this shift in the young man’s behavior.

“Now, about the price for this piece-“ Elim started, but Pem interrupted him, highly uncharacteristically.

“Consider it a gift.”

Crin had said this with such conviction that it took Julian by surprise.

“Ghemor might not end up sponsoring you, are you certain?” Elim said shrewdly.

“Your gift to me was greater than any material gain.” Pem said in a clear and sober voice. 

“Then I shall graciously accept.” Elim inclined his head and averted his eyes briefly.

Julian was left wondering what he had missed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, psyched to hear your thoughts! How did you like the music?


	61. Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pem concludes his visit.
> 
> Garak explains the meaning of the term - beloved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter could be Babel Trek material!
> 
> I wondered how the Universal Translator works if it doesn't have access to a race's literature and dictionaries, surely it would be unable to interpret idioms or specific literary references! (Shaka, when the walls fell - such a good TNG episode!) 
> 
> I explored one such instance here. :)
> 
> Also, music for this chapter - [Mirror of my Soul (Instrumental)](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/613849361081925632/9th-song-from-the-under-the-blind-moon-ost-i)
> 
> [Mirror of my Soul (Vocals)](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/614564107311595520/goes-well-with-chapter-61-of-under-the-blind-moon)

Julian couldn't tell where the time went. 

All he knew that it was wonderfully spent. 

At some point, Elim had opened the rest of the cylinders and he and Pem spent hours discussing the calligraphy, its origins, history, artistic merit and much more. 

Julian, as woefully uneducated on the subject as he was, could do little but listen in and marvel at the two Cardassians as they discussed a topic of common interest. 

Pem’s usually servile and soft face was uncommonly animated, the gleam in his eye a clear indication of his passion for the subject. It was wonderful to witness the young man coming out of his shell.

Garak seemed to be doing his best to stoke the boy’s artistic fires and Julian could see that Crin was clearly inspired, as he kept talking about different ideas he’s had, to which Elim would answer with insightful questions and so it went, on and on, endlessly.

Curiously, Julian wasn’t bored at all, not for a second. 

He was the only one of them who actually finished his tea. The thought was warming, for some reason. 

At some point he looked out the window and everything was dark. 

Night had fallen, and the sky was curiously clear tonight. He stared at it with a warm smile.

“It would seem we are boring the dear Doctor with our choice of topic.” Elim said lightly.

“Preposterous, Elim. Can’t a man enjoy the sight of Cardassia’s clear skies? With these storms and clouds, I so rarely get to see it.”

The tailor’s face was a curious mixture of fondness and…

_ Desire _ .

Julian was surprised he’d managed to read it. 

Inconveniently, his heart rate spiked as well.

“Pem,” Elim addressed the young man politely, “Don’t you have a young wife at home? It’s positively _criminal_ of us to keep you away from your marital duties.”

If that was designed to get the poor boy out the door as fast as humanly possible, it worked like a charm. 

Pem thanked them both for their hospitality, drank his cold tea in one gulp, gathered his cylinders and with as much dignity as he could, bid them a good night. 

Once the young man had gone, Elim broke the silence with a mischievous smirk.

“You make the most interesting friends, my dear. Why am I the one that has to entertain them though?”

Julian looked at him with a mixture of incredulity and exasperation. 

“You invited him here, Elim, and then you lay the blame at my door?”

Elim’s smile softened.

“Our door, beloved.”

Julian’s heart skipped a beat.

So… It wasn’t all in his head after all… The place he had realized felt like home… 

Elim felt the same.

“Beloved…” Julian murmured, as if trying out the taste of the word on his lips.

Elim blinked.

“What did you just say?”

Julian’s confusion was palpable. 

“What do you mean, Elim? I just repeated the word you used.”

“That’s decidedly _not_ what I’d been using.” Elim protested, genuinely aggravated. “Turn off that useless translator of yours.”

Bemused, but intrigued, Julian complied. There was something exciting about hearing Elim’s wonderful voice without a filter.

The subliminal hum disappeared once more and he looked at the Cardassian in front of him, feeling his heart swell. Elim didn’t have to even do anything to get his heart or his thoughts racing. Just being in the man’s presence was enough. 

When the man finally spoke, Julian gasped in shock. 

“You called me: _my love_. While appreciated, this is not what I said.”

It was spoken in flawless Standard. Oh, what a butchery the device made of Elim’s rich voice, smoothing it out and making it sound more human. The way he enunciated was clearly alien, nobody could mistake the speaker for a human, which lent the speech a thrilling and exotic note. 

“What I _actually_ said, was this…”

And he proceeded with a fluent Kardassi phrase, short but full of meaning, which made a frisson race through Julian’s receptive body, because…

He’d heard it before.

Back at the Oralian Way.

He still had no idea what it meant, but now it no longer made him simply feel warm. 

No, now it felt like so much more.

“What this means, loosely translated into your tongue, is: _Mirror of my soul._”

Julian drew a shaky breath.

“It’s a famous poem by the renowned poet, Iloja of Prim.”

Jadzia’s favorite Cardassian author, Julian recalled. 

Another exile.

How fitting.

He’d never read any of his works and regretted it now.

Elim’s voice was honeyed and deep.

“_Mirror of my soul…_

_ _

_ Broken – you show the Distortion _

_ Mended – you show me the Whole _

_ _

_ We expand one another, _

_ And become  _

_ A Universe of our own _ .”

Julian was rendered speechless.

It was beautiful.

How much more so would it be in Elim’s gorgeous language?

“Say it… as it’s meant to be said.” Julian entreated softly.

Elim’s eyes gleamed in the darkness.

He approached Julian, placed his hand on the trembling skin and brushed his thumb against his jawline.

And when he spoke, Julian drank him in.

Greedily.

The emotion was there, bared and raw and he let it envelop him – engulf him.

Completely.

It was the single most wonderful thing he’d ever heard.

The most moving.

It filled his being, flooding him with light.

And when Elim was quiet once more, Julian leaned in and kissed him, willing his own light to reciprocate.

If he was a mirror, he would show Elim the reflection of his wonder.

Of his overwhelming and nurturing nature.

Of love.

It was soft and sweet, melting the ice from his veins, smoothing his scars until they retreated back into unblemished skin. He couldn’t spare any words, but he spoke regardless.

Of trust.

And joy.

And _home_.

And Elim buried his hands in his hair, caressed his neck and Julian felt so overwhelmed he lost all feeling in his body.

Instead, he felt with his soul, with that frail creature Elim saw and coaxed into the light.

_ I am his. _

Irrevocably.

He truly was taken, he realized. 

Taken by.

Taken in.

Taken over.

This gentleness would be his undoing, just as that push into the wall of the shed had been.

Just like Elim’s words had been.

_ “Careful, Elim. _ _ You know perfectly well that the surest way to your heart is through conversation.” _

If that was so, Julian wanted to learn his language. 

Pay tribute.

_ Worship _ .

“Teach me how to say it…” Julian murmured into those expressive lips.

Garak’s smile and gaze were full of promise.

“I intend to-“

That delightful, entrancing expression once more-

“Julian.”

He stared at the man who had captivated him so utterly and realized-

-he no longer felt fractured.

Wounded, yes.

But complete.

And wounds would and could… 

_ Heal. _


	62. We Are All Here to Learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian asks Zeyem for linguistic resources to aid his efforts.
> 
> The plague claims its nineteenth victim and Julian attempts to reassure an upset Ghar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tonal shift in this chapter is a bit jarring but I couldn't, for the life of me, manage anything better.
> 
> Composed 2 new pieces, I have to record them better and then you shall have them, perhaps with the next update! :)

Ever since that night, Julian made it a point to turn off his translator for at least two hours each day, just so he could get a feel for the spoken language.

He was surprised to notice that the accents he was hearing, a vaguely British one Zeyem used, or Elim's American one, was just the translator's quite vague approximation of their class-adapted speech. 

Without the filter he never even gave much thought to, he realized that most alien languages would sound quite different, possibly even grating to the human ear. 

Kardassi had a few clicks, and some sounds which sounded almost nasal, but he could tell they were made in the throat and vibrated strangely because of the configuration of their necks. This, of course, meant that Kardassi, spoken by a native, was a rich and resonant language. Julian tried to imitate the sounds, with some success, but his own voice would never carry properly like a Cardassian’s would. 

Shamed by his almost complete lack of understanding, he had capitulated and sheepishly asked Zeyem for a dictionary.

She had laughed at him, but at the end of that workday, he had a PADD full of resources he could learn from. There was a massive database with audio dictionaries of pronunciation, with definitions, of course; lexicons full of specialized jargon (most of which were: surprise, surprise - medical) and to his slight embarrassment, an audio guide for children. Elementary school grade.

Absurdly grateful, he gave her a formal bow.

She chuckled.

“You may be atrocious at our spoken language, little Bashir, but you are passably decent at our gestures, which is harder to pick up on. I’ve only ever seen one Vulcan linguist who managed it. Pity he was as expressionless as a Tarlak monument.”

This made Julian laugh. 

“I wonder whether I will be able to converse with you in Kardassi soon… Should I give you a deadline? The added incentive usually does wonders for your performance.”

He recognized the teasing for what it was and deadpanned. 

“Does reconstructive surgery come with the package? Because that’s the only way I could manage to _perform_ it.”

She slapped a hand on her console and burst into raucous laughter. This lasted for a good fifteen seconds, when she sobered enough to say in a mischievous way:

“I think Garak would have some choice words for me if I went through with that.”

“I think the only thing he’d complain about is that my ridges weren’t symmetrical enough. Or the color. He always complains about the color.”

Zeyem grinned. She rarely did so, and he wondered whether she was aware of just how predatory that grin looked. 

“This could make a nice first anniversary gift, what do you think?”

Julian blushed beet red at the implication. 

“You could always have it reversed, of course. Could be worth a night or two of fun.”

“Zeyem!” Julian cried out, scandalized. 

She merely chuckled at his discomfort, clearly deeply amused.

“Your outrage is almost Cardassian, little one. Good. We shall make a proper citizen out of you yet.”

Knowing he couldn’t win this verbal spar, he opted for a graceful retreat. 

Her laughter followed him out, echoing merrily down the corridor.

***

“Nineteen.” Trengem said gravely.

Gaddik sighed.

Ghar looked like she was about to cry. 

Julian wanted to reassure her, but he was feeling quite despondent himself.

Gaddik spoke instead.

“There’s no use crying over it, Akot. We all feel the same, but tears won’t cure these people.”

Their quarantine was almost full.

Would be, if the patients weren’t dying.

They had separated them in rooms, according to the four stages.

Week one – high fever, shivering and flaking of the scales.

Week two – lower fever, lung infections and general pulmonary distress.

Week three – internal hemorrhaging from several sources.

Week four – massive and inescapable organ failure.

Patients in week four were kept sedated, because their pain was unimaginable. 

Both the physical and the psychological.

It seemed almost like the virus had been engineered to inflict the maximum amount of pain possible while taking its sweet time to kill you. 

Julian couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

He had a hunch though.

Whatever this thing was, it seemed too… deliberate.

Too…

_ Perfect _ .

Almost like it had been designed, but there were no usual markers which would indicate this. At least not any he recognized. 

Whoever made this disgusting thing had no scruples whatsoever. 

If there was one thing he despised, it was science being used to murder people by the millions.

Because that’s what this thing could become, if it got out of hand.

He needed a fresh perspective on this.

_ I’ll ask Elim, perhaps he has some ideas… _

Sometimes, when you looked at the same thing for too long, everything blurred together and your ability to see new details fell by the wayside completely.

Gaddik and Trengem were currently carrying out the virus’ latest victim.

Ghar sniffled at her work station.

“I’m useless!” She cried out. 

Julian could feel the full weight of her frustration and despair.

“That’s not true, Ghar.” He sighed, “We’re doing the best we can.”

“No we’re not!” She said angrily. “Head Zeyem… She… Works most nights, runs endless simulations and calculations, devises new treatments… Me? I just collect samples and administer the medication! I don’t know nearly enough to be of any help…” With that, she angrily wiped her face and stared at the console before her despondently. 

Her youth really showed in moments like these. 

“Ghar, you are capable but you are also here to learn. We all are. Our job is never over. There will always be a new disease, a new emergency. Just look at it that way. Nobody has the answers. But we all need to do our job, and if we do, we will find it. It’s the only way.”

She gulped and stilled, taking a long moment to compose herself. 

“You’re right, Doctor Bashir.” She said tiredly.

“Just a little longer, Ghar. We’ll find it.”

She nodded mutely and went back to her screen.

Julian wished he was half as skilled at reassuring himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of an intermediary chapter, I guess.
> 
> Don't let that deter you, comment-wise! 
> 
> I am experiencing a bit of a block at the moment but with 77 chapters done, I'm hoping you won't have to feel it in the posting schedule.


	63. Hell Hath No Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian ponders the nature of his previous relationships and comes to a startling conclusion.
> 
> He gets a call from a furious Nerys and has a surprisingly constructive chat with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal growth? It's all here.
> 
> As promised, one of the pieces I've composed!  
[Growing Pains](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190138885686/companion-piece-to-chapter-43-you-are-allowed-to)  
This one goes with chapter 43, "You Are Allowed to Change Your Mind". I shall edit accordingly.

This was one of those days when work dragged on. For some reason, Zeyem felt he was the best suited to take inventory and make a list of compounds they needed to replicate.

Julian had a feeling Trengem or Gaddik would have been better at that, just by virtue of having worked here for far longer, but as Parmak had said, she could be as immovable as a mountain, and he wasn’t stupid enough to disobey her. 

The work was necessary, but mind-numbing. He hated keeping lists and records. It was annoying and too repetitive for his tastes. 

As was often the case, as of late, his mind wandered to Elim.

Naturally, as soon as it did, his pulse sped up.

His body was embarrassingly out of his control these past few days, never failing to remind him of the man’s closeness, touch or smell. 

Whenever he got to go home at the end of a long day, his entire being would hum and vibrate in anticipation. 

At times, it was no more than a small buzz of happiness at the thought of getting to press his palm against Elim’s and exchange the daily news.

Other times, it was a warm glow at the knowledge they would speak again and that he would turn off his UT and get to listen to Elim as he explained something banal in simple terms, just for the sake of Julian learning his language by immersing himself in it. 

Today, the glow felt more immediate and nearly scalding against his skin. 

Doing nothing in this storage room left entirely too much brain power available, which his mind interpreted as an invitation to flood him with most distracting memories.

The images and their ghostly sensory imprints danced behind his closed eyelids, competing with one another almost playfully.

That brush on his wrist in front of Pem a few days ago…

The hazy, dreamlike memory of Elim’s fingers trailing up his thigh…

Being pushed away, pinned and nearly devoured…

He opened his eyes, trying to snap himself out of it.

This was unwise. He was at work. 

Plus, it was too soon after one breakup to start anything with a new partner.

But then…

He had known Elim far longer than he had known anyone else he’d ever dated.

Palis , he’d known for all of three weeks.

Leeta … Well, a few months, he guessed, but it was a superficial kind of bond, barely a friendship. It had been open and stable, for the most part, but nothing deeper than that. It was fun, but that was about it.

Sarina … God, he’d been stupid with her. She had been trapped in her own mind for years on end, unable to communicate, unable to process… And as soon as she was better, he had besieged her with his feelings, overwhelming her completely. Now he knew exactly how Elim had felt with Ziyal. Sarina, she… in some ways, _crucial_ ways; had been a child. 

He had tried to romance a child. No wonder she ran away. 

Besides… He had loved Sarina for the potential she represented and not for any particular personal trait she possessed, and wasn’t that shallow? Falling in love with the patient he had cured, like some kind of Pygmalion… 

It disturbed him now.

And Ezri… was a very complicated matter altogether. 

He was in love with her, passionately. 

But what was it he loved?

Her youthful enthusiasm? The fact she was slightly insecure? More approachable than Jadzia, less scathing in her criticism? Her cute spots?

He stopped dead in the middle of a list.

_ What did I love? _

The reasons he gave to himself right now were…

The list was so… Mediocre.

Trite.

Banal.

Her enthusiasm was but a mirror to his own; familiar, soothing.

Her insecurity made her seem more like a woman his own age, rather than a supremely wise joined Trill. It put him at ease.

She had been approachable… God, who knows why? Because Ezri herself liked him, or because Jadzia missed his friendship? Jarred by her own death, yet living on, in a truly strange way… She may have just searched for reassurance, a continuation of her broken lifeline… It was tragic.

Ezri’s gentleness and tactfulness were traits he aspired to, but how much of those were just a façade, worn by someone who feared confrontation?

And her physical appearance…

She was adorable, and undeniably attractive. 

Yet…

Now he could see what had been missing.

She didn’t really challenge him.

She was a people pleaser, just like he was.

Neither of them truly had a spine, not then. Not when it came to romantic entanglements.

And wasn’t that eye opening?

This is what had been going wrong with every single relationship he’d ever had. 

This crucial, important, devilish little detail.

This-

“Bashir, a rude Bajoran woman wants to speak to you on the comm.”

He looked at the intercom system, where Zeyem’s most displeased face was frowning at him.

“I suggest you deal with her swiftly, I have no time for such nonsense.”

“Uh, yes Head Zeyem.” He said automatically, defaulting back to utmost respect at the sight of her stern visage. 

“Rerouting.” She said, and the image flickered and changed.

She hadn’t been kidding.

A familiar face was currently staring at him, brown eyes blazing and expression about ready to unleash hellfire and brimstone upon him.

He gulped.

“Hello, Nerys.” Julian said politely. 

Didn’t make a damn difference.

“Don’t you _Nerys_ me, Julian!”

He snapped his mouth shut, knowing it was best to leave her to vent. 

Trying to stop an angry Kira was like trying to calm an erupting volcano.

With a cup of tea.

Entirely and ridiculously ineffective, thus, he braced for impact. 

“What is _WRONG_ with you??”

Even he knew better than to respond to that with any kind of flimsy justification. It was far preferable to shut his mouth and be done with it.

“How _LOW_ can you go?!” _ _

She was gathering steam. A corner of his mind thought she was almost like a typhoon.

_ Typhoon Kira. _ It was funny. 

And true. The woman was a force of nature.

“Say something!!”

Oh. Well, a direct order wasn’t something he could afford to ignore. 

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Nerys.” He shrugged. He wasn’t unrepentant, but what was done was done. There’s nothing he could do to change what had transpired. 

“I’m not going to justify what I’ve done; I know I was in the wrong. Ezri had every right to dump me and I’m glad she did.”

Kira’s dark eyes blazed with unbridled fury. 

“She did what you were too _COWARDLY_ to do! Because leaving someone would require _HONESTY_!”

“I know.” He said strangely calmly. 

She seemed taken aback by his words. Or his tone. He couldn’t tell which.

“You… know.” She blinked, with her lips pursed. Julian thought she used to look way more intimidating with short hair.

“Yes, Nerys. I actually can be aware of my own failings without needing to have them shouted at me.” He said, surprised by how tranquil he actually felt. 

His attitude seemed to deflate her slightly.

“What were you _thinking_, Julian?” She said, merely aggravated and tired now.

With a deep sigh, he explained.

“I just wanted to fix our crumbling friendship, Nerys. That’s all I wanted, all I hoped for. There was no ulterior motive.”

“How does one go from wanting to fix a friendship to cheating on their partner, Julian?”

He took a deep breath and let out a long, calming gust of air. This was important to explain.

At least Kira seemed interested in an explanation, unlike Ezri.

“Cardassia… is different than I imagined, Nerys. Everything we thought we knew about these people has been turned upside down. Their entire government dismantled or dead, their class society and norms crumbling, deprivation and hunger… It’s unimaginable. And yes, I know, they occupied Bajor, killed millions, strip-mined and ravaged your planet and your people, but…” He tried to stay self-possessed, because he really _needed_ her to understand.

“What they did to Bajor is unforgivable, Nerys. Nobody in their right mind would dispute that. Hell, even Elim wouldn’t. But what nobody wants to acknowledge is that most Cardassians… Kira… They brainwash them, from infancy. Just like they did with Elim. And there had been opposition to the Bajoran Occupation, but those in power were happy as long as it was profitable, turning a blind eye to your people’s suffering. Their society has been stratified, unchanging, _ossified_ – for centuries! The same families ruled, each in their own little niche – the civilian government, the military, possibly even the Obsidian Order. Upward mobility was almost like a tantalizing illusion, something to pacify the service class with. And they – Nerys – they are the bulk of their people! Kept in the dark, controlled, propagandized to death… And still, there was opposition to the regime! But now…”

He said in a rush, half excited and half terrified she would interrupt him for talking too much.

“Their oppressive tool is gone! The military is crippled! The people have turned to democracy, held their first elections for sector representatives! Some even have Federation sympathies, can you even imagine?”

He stopped to take a breath.

“They are changing, Nerys!” He said passionately, his eyes gleaming. “They are questioning everything they used to believe in!”

Kira’s patience for his monologuing seemed to have run dry, because she said impatiently:

“Right, fine! What does this have to do with what you did?”

It was a fair point, Julian admitted. 

As he blinked, trying to come up with the right words, the images came.

Ghar’s overwhelmed joy when she learned of the water purifier under the Torr Sector.

Hejod’s acknowledgment for a job well done after the operation on Rekat.

Elim , giving his blood for an orphan.

_ Everything. _ _ It has to do with everything, because… _

“Don’t you see, Nerys?” Julian said with an exultant smile. “It has everything to do with it!”

“No, Julian. I’m afraid I don’t.” She huffed and crossed her arms.

He allowed his love for this world, its people, his many new friends, new connections – new tendrils of golden light he’d developed here to show in his eyes and on his face. 

His love for Elim – the man who found him and guided him.

“I’m accepted here, Nerys… Can you imagine?”

This made her pause.

“No.” Kira admitted. She was big enough to. 

Julian smiled softly.

“Neither could I. An alien, an outsider – _other_. They don’t know us, Nerys. They’ve been told we are all enemies or savages. Yet… They let me treat them, heal them. They trust me with their patients, their loved ones… They seek my advice and accept it. They… don’t treat me like I am an overgrown child who is broken and needs fixing. They acknowledge the break in me and move on. Continue treating me with the same respect. And how can I not do the same? Give them the benefit of the doubt? Just like they gave me. A chance to prove myself – that’s all I ever wanted.”

“You’ve proven yourself on DS9, Julian. You are accepted as well as respected here, you know that!”

He looked at her sadly. 

“But not loved…”

Nerys looked at him then – really looked. He could tell. 

With fresh eyes, with an open mind. 

She had also come a long way. 

“Ezri loved you.” She said simply.

“I know.” He acknowledged. “But I am… I _was_, the wrong man for her. She needed someone perceptive, nurturing. And that was simply beyond my ability to give.”

Kira’s brows knitted together in silent assessment.

And then a half-bewildered statement,

“You’ve… changed.”

Julian smiled warmly.

“I have.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Julian took this opportunity to observe her and re-examine how he felt about her. 

Respect was the first thing that came to mind. 

A profound, honest kind. She was, without a doubt, one of the most passionate, truthful and capable individuals he had ever met. The thought would horrify her, but he thought she’d make a splendid Cardassian. She was all fire, wild and consuming. Resplendent and blinding in her intensity.

The second thing that came to mind was admiration. For the way she gave her best, always. Relentlessly, unapologetically. Also, the way she was with those she cared about – protective and fiercely loyal. 

He liked her. 

Wanted her approval, once upon a time, ever since his blunder about frontier medicine. Felt he needed to make up for it, prove her wrong. 

That didn’t matter anymore. 

“Nerys, I am truly sorry about any insensitive comments on my part, in the past. I was a deeply immature individual when you met me. Thank you for tolerating me for as long as you have.”

She stared at him and the by-play of emotions on her face was fascinating –incomprehension, doubt, surprise and finally…

Understanding.

“I respect you, Nerys. And I admire you, on every level, professional and personal. Your intensity is wonderful. I would have told you this sooner, but I was never aware enough, or brave enough to do so. You used to intimidate the hell out of me.”

An incredulous huff and wide brown eyes.

“I loved Ezri the way I’ve loved every other woman in my life – superficially. I enjoyed their company and the way they made me feel. I enjoyed their beauty, mostly the physical kind. I appreciated their wit and intelligence.”

Here he stopped and shook his head. He’d caused so much harm.

Unwillingly, perhaps.

But consistently.

“I enjoyed the idea of them, the normalcy of it all, the way their brilliant personalities and quirks reflected on me, creating the illusion that I was better than… That I was more. Normal.”

Kira said nothing.

“But I wasn’t normal, Nerys. Because I had a secret, one that wasn’t my fault, but one I still had to hide. I was a freak. To conceal it, I closed myself off. I had to, to survive getting through the Academy as my parents wanted. And after a while… It became a habit. And those can be very hard to break. This, you know very well.”

Her face wasn’t angry anymore, simply contemplative.

“All you saw was an insensitive young man who looked arrogant and cocky and too proud of himself by far.” 

Opening up like this felt so… freeing. 

“But in that man’s shadow was a little boy of six, who got murdered on an operating table on Adigeon Prime. His slow, mentally challenged little brain got replaced by a supercomputer. Suddenly, he could think. The only trouble was, he could now think better than any of his peers. From the slowest, dimmest child he became the prodigy. And only at fifteen, did his parents tell him what they’d done. Suddenly, all their little comments to never try his best, as he was a genius, made sense.”

Kira’s eyes looked wet and he could see her trying to remain composed. 

“That little boy never learned how to play with others. Isolated from childhood, he grew into a clumsy, moody teen. From there, he became a strange mixture of professional success and incredible interpersonal failure. And it never got better, because how could it?” He said, with a lump in his throat.

“He could never open himself up, never be seen. Because… if he allowed it, he would lose everything. Career, future, even the parents who held him ransom with their terrible secret.”

Kira seemed to be blinking faster in an effort not to cry. 

“Once my secret was known, I could have changed, perhaps, but I had grown accustomed to it. Now people were teasing me about it, telling me my emotional thick-headedness made me seem more human, when all it felt like – is that it made me _less_. I was still not seen. Nor accepted. I was merely… Tolerated.”

Kira gasped minutely, and a stray tear rolled down her pretty lashes. She wiped it away, angry at herself for her lack of self-control. 

“The only person on that station who never treated my social blunders or lack of awareness as a personal affront was…”

“Garak.” She interjected, her voice remarkably calm despite the fact her chin was wobbly.

“Yes, Nerys.” Julian smiled with soft joy. “Garak.”

When she failed to respond, he continued. 

“The Cardassian. The spy. The former Obsidian Order operative. The man nobody in their right mind would trust.”

His exhale was full of fondness and his eyes closed at the wonder of the memory. 

“By virtue of being Cardassian, of caring more what lay beneath my bumbling façade and poor social skills, he saw what nobody else did. Someone who wanted friendship, someone who yearned for a meaningful connection, even if it was simply to debate literature with, as nobody tolerated his verbosity.”

Nerys ’ hand was covering her mouth now; as if that could hide how affected she was by his words. 

“He saw _me_, Nerys. He didn’t know my secret, any more than anyone else, but he accepted my flaws, contradictions and inconsistencies in stride, never holding them against me. And I didn’t even notice it then.”

Kira seemed at a complete loss.

“And there isn’t a single person who ever met me, Nerys, that didn’t find me wanting. _Lacking_. As if I didn’t tell myself that every day. As if I didn’t know.”

A small sob escaped her then. 

He was sorry for making her cry, but this needed to be said. If he wanted to keep her as a friend, and he very much did, it had to be done.

“I don’t hold it against any of you, or at least I don’t want to. But it hurt, Nerys. My cheerful façade may have given you the impression that your little jabs pinged off my armor, but they didn’t. They always found their mark.”

She wasn’t even bothering with wiping her tears anymore.

“I was never strong, Nerys. That requires facing your fears, acknowledging them and overcoming them as they appear. I merely… ran away. I always… ran away. Physically, or in my mind. Stuffing whatever unpleasant thing into a drawer, like a pair of dirty socks you can’t be bothered to get cleaned because they’re ugly and scratchy but were given to you by someone you kind of like and don’t want to disappoint by getting rid of their gift.”

“I-I didn’t know.” She said in an uncharacteristically small voice. 

“You couldn’t have known. That’s the whole point. I never dared tell the truth. If it hadn’t come out the way it had… Perhaps I never would have.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Nerys said sincerely, her expressive eyes glistening over the screen.

“Thank you.” Julian acknowledged. “And I am sorry too, for not communicating honestly. I thought, all this time, that I had bad luck with friends, lovers… That my awkwardness was to blame, but it wasn’t. It was just this. It had been this all along.”

“And… he made you realize that.” She murmured tentatively.

His smile could have powered the entire city for an hour.

“Yes.”

There was no accusation, no recrimination, no disgust in her eyes as she stated:

“You… love him.”

Julian laughed. 

Yes, of course he loved him.

“More than anything.” He said serenely, feeling all his jagged pieces falling back into place, their edges smoothing out and melting and molding into a smooth, unbroken plain of reflective material.

“This isn’t just some passing fancy, is it?” She asked, even as he could see she had made her conclusion before she even asked. 

“It’s not.”

She let out a long breath and sagged into her chair with her full weight. 

When no more words came, Julian fell silent, entirely content by having said his piece. There was no need to fill this silence.

He was no longer the man who failed to distinguish between a comfortable and an awkward one. 

_ I have learned. _

A warm glow of pride and accomplishment suffused his entire being. 

This was Jules, coming out of his shell, finally being given a chance to learn and grow. 

What would Astraea say if she saw him now?

What would Elim?

He felt ridiculously warm, and for once it had nothing to do with Cardassia’s oppressive heat. 

“I… need some time to… think about what you’ve said.”

“That is fine.” He said peaceably. “Take as much time as you need.”

“If I didn’t know better, I would ask you which mirror universe you’re from!” She joked feebly and he appreciated her effort at levity. 

It meant she still cared about him enough to bother making the situation lighter. 

“Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of learning.” He admonished softly, with a warm gaze so she could tell he meant that kindly.

“Yes. You are.” Nerys said and the corners of her eyes were crinkled with joy and warmth. 

“Take care, Nerys.” Julian said gently, meaning it with all his heart.

She nodded.

“You too, Julian.”

And with that, she terminated the call. 

Julian felt like another one of his tendrils just got stronger. 

Only time would tell,

But he had hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, this chapter brings a happy tear to my eye. 
> 
> Julian has come a long way, hasn't he? Kira too, while we're at it!
> 
> Comments are life!


	64. Be The Death Of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian goes home and banters lovingly with Elim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure fluff before the storm!

When he got home after the inventory was done, Julian was greeted by Garak's open palm and a pleasantly warm statement:

“You seem to be in a good mood today, my dear.”

Julian smiled widely, taking in the sight of his beloved.

This was where he belonged.

This planet.

This shed.

This man.

“Mirror of my soul…” Julian said softly. “I am sorry I cannot say it in your language yet, I would rather not butcher it.”

Elim didn’t seem to mind. 

And when the other palm was offered, Julian mirrored the gesture happily. 

The gesture melted, and so did Julian, at the feel of Elim’s body molding against his.

The kiss was languid and sweet and utterly intoxicating.

He enjoyed it deeply, with every fiber of his being thrumming in a harmony of perfect golden light and clear vibration.

Julian never knew it could feel like this.

Like just one kiss was enough to convey everything he felt – communicate all he wished to say.

And when two sure hands grasped his waist, he moaned into Elim soft mouth and caressed the man’s neck ridges with both hands, on a slow journey to the sides of his face. 

Elim broke apart with a little gasp and Julian rested his forehead against the now increasingly familiar Cardassian ridges and _chufa_.

“Julian…” Elim said almost breathlessly. 

It was captivating.

“If we don’t stop now, I will rush into something you may not be ready for,” The tailor warned; his blue eyes keen and bright in the dying light of the day. “And I feel that would be a shame, my love.”

Julian marveled at the sweetness of those words.

“I agree.” He merely offered a warm smile and kissed Elim’s cheek instead.

In the next moment, Elim seemed perfectly composed once more, his expression bright and much more like the amiable mask Julian was used to.

Except now he could tell there was no mask.

The former spy was simply… Happy.

Content.

It was such a lovely sight. 

“Red leaf or _choban_, my dear?”

Julian laughed. It was such a British thing to say. 

Bonding over a cuppa.

Silly and utterly wonderful.

“Do you have some _kanar_, perhaps?” Julian smirked, feeling buoyant and audacious.

Garak’s face was assessing and smugly proud. 

“Well, well, well… How the mighty have fallen!” Elim said theatrically.

_ That’s what happens when you fall in love with a Cardassian, _ Julian mused. 

“Mhm, Elim.” Julian said indulgently. “I seem to have developed a taste for it.”

Now, if that was just a shade too suggestive, Julian didn’t mind.

Elim sighed dramatically.

“Better late than never, as you humans would say…”

This made Julian chuckle as he made himself comfortable on the cot.

“And what would Cardassians say, hmm? Better be right on the first try or not try at all?”

Garak looked at him deviously and countered:

“Why, of course! Or, at the very least, not to leave any witnesses of your failure.”

Julian merely rolled his eyes.

“I can tell when you’re pulling my leg, Elim.” He said with mild exasperation.

Elim splayed a hand over his heart in a mocking gesture of sincerity and opened his eyes and mouth wide in the most exaggeratedly false shock Julian had ever seen. It was over-acted to the extreme, so of course he dissolved into helpless laughter. 

“Me, pulling a limb of yours? Leg hardly seems appropriate!”

Julian blushed and buried his face in his palms.

“Eliiiiim,” He groaned through his fingers, “You’re not making this easy…”

“Oh,” A devious voice reached his ears, thick with promise, “It’s not meant to be…”

Julian wanted to smack him. 

Here he was, trying to take things slowly, respectfully and all that proper… _stuff_, and Elim was content to tease him into oblivion. 

“Are you certain you want that _kanar_, my dear? The effects were quite… enjoyable for me last time.”

Julian felt like he would explode.

“I’ll pass!” He cried out and emerged from behind the screen of his palms. “Just get me some red leaf before I die of overheating, ok?”

Garak chuckled deviously and headed towards the improvised kitchen.

“Your wish is my command, my sweet.”

Julian shook his head and tried to gather his wits. 

Elim was still inordinately good at flustering him. Perhaps he always would be.

It’s not like he actually minded it much.

Cardassians seemed to banter all the time (as long as they were friendly). Ghemor did it, Parmak too (in a softer, more caring way), Zeyem, heck, even Gaddik. It was endearing now, because it meant…

_ They accept me.  _

_ They like me. _

And in Elim’s case…

_ He loves me. _

Julian was vaguely aware that he must currently look every inch the star-struck fool, but he didn’t care. How often would he get to indulge in such a pure and all-consuming emotion?

This wasn’t like Ezri at all.

The thought hurt him – her anguished face and her bitter tears.

Yet, it was over now.

Guilt was still there, but it was getting smaller. Julian wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing, but that is how it felt inside. 

“So, what put you in such a good mood?” Elim asked as he busied himself with the tea. 

“I had a nice talk with Nerys. I think I shocked her though.”

“Oh? What with?” Elim said deceptively innocently. 

“As if you cannot guess.” Julian rolled his eyes.

“Why would I guess, when I can extract the information from you with a simple _please_, hmm?”

Oh, he was good, Julian thought.

Disturbingly so.

“I told her about Cardassia. From the way I waxed poetic, she realized how stupidly smitten I was with you.”

Elim’s head swiveled in his direction and a curious smile was blooming on that dear, gray face of his.

“That’s such an alarmingly human way to put it, and yet…”

“You love it.” Julian finished the thought for him. 

Elim scoffed.

“You infected me with your silly human nonsense.”

If he’d been drinking anything, he’d currently be busy spitting it out. 

“Oh, no, Elim!” Julian said with exaggerated worry, “It’s terminal!”

The tailor looked at him lovingly and said softly,

“Of course it is, beloved. I am quite beyond help.”

The gentleness and naked admiration on that face was such a marvel to witness.

“Good thing you’ve shacked up with a Doctor then, huh?” Julian teased him fondly.

“Oh yes. It’s quite handy to have someone to euthanize me on hand.” Elim deadpanned.

Julian merely shook his head and exhaled loudly. 

They would both be the death of one another, he mused, chuckling at the realization. 


	65. Everything Else Can Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a new development at the Research Center.
> 
> One of the staff contracts the disease by accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few are angsty. If you like my original characters, you might need a hanky.

As wonderful as the previous night with Elim had been, it seemed this day was trying to prove itself a wretchedly powerful force in the opposite direction. 

Julian had his hands full in the Quarantine Ward, bustling between the 3rd week and 4th week rooms, with minimum success. 

Three patients in the 4th week room bled out to death in front of his very eyes, today. He fought for them, with an increasingly more pallid Ghar and ever more taciturn Trengem by his side, but there was simply nothing he could do. His patients’ bodies were shutting down violently, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do but administer the strongest dose of painkillers known to Cardassian medicine and caress their hair until they drew their last, gurgling breaths.

This was the third time today Ghar ran out of the room in an attempt to hide her tears.

Her blood shot eyes were all the evidence he needed upon her invariable return, a few minutes later. She was barely holding herself together. 

Trengem seemed more jaded but his somber expression was even more pronounced than usual. 

None of them were immune to the situation, and only Julian, as the sole human, was immune to the disease. It was a minor miracle none of the Cardassian staff had contracted it yet. They tested themselves extensively, every time they left the ward, and passed through the sterilization fields as par for the course but Julian knew all their measures would fail sooner or later. 

This thing was entirely too insidious.

Gaddik and Zeyem had their hands full in the 3rd week room, trying to stabilize several patients. 

Judging by Zeyem’s deadness of expression, they had poor luck.

Julian gave Trengem a hand with the bodies, while Gaddik tried to console poor Akot. 

Zeyem had authorized the use of the incinerator. 

With their burial customs, this was a terrible prospect that clearly broke her heart, but their protocols were clear – in these conditions, leaving the bodies as they were was inviting trouble. 

Julian didn’t envy her the task of notifying any surviving family members. 

Nobody was happy about this, but Julian saw each of the Cardassians undertake their part with grave dignity. 

“Any luck locating the source?” Gaddik asked and Zeyem flicked her head in annoyance. 

“None. We would have had better luck finding the patient zero, were they not long gone. So far, our best guess is some part of the Munda’ar Sector, as several of our patients were scavenging there for supplies…” Zeyem sighed heavily. “There’s simply not enough information to go on. In times like this, I almost miss the Obsidian Order.”

Julian wasn’t sure how anyone could miss them. 

Gaddik scoffed.

“You are lucky I am well aware you don’t mean it, Moje.”

“We are all getting desperate, Telat.” She murmured, worry evident in her piercing eyes. 

Trengem’s gravelly voice cried out a harried:

“Akot, where are your gloves?”

Everyone turned around to see what was happening, only to witness a shocked and uncomprehending Ghar staring at her bare hands.

“How long ago did you take them off?!” Trengem hounded her.

Her eyes were wide and teary.

“I… I just went to splash water on my face and… “

“When, Akot??” Trengem shook her by the forearms. 

“I… Ten metrics? Fifteen? I don’t know!” She cried.

Julian flipped his tricorder open to scan her for the virus.

This couldn’t be happening.

His blood froze in his veins. 

“Ghar…” Julian blinked, feeling his voice giving out. He triple checked, but the result didn’t change.

His eyes filling with anguish met with her terrified ones.

“Akot…” He said softly, “You… are infected.”

She looked at all of them with her big doe eyes, whimpered and Julian jumped in to steady her before her legs gave way.

“Take her to the 1st room.” Zeyem said in a numb voice.

Akot cried out like a little child:

“Moje, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Gaddik then said with clear relief,

“Moje, you’re clear. So are Vonek and I.”

Akot was still whimpering as Julian took her away, hearing the doors whoosh closed behind him.

The prospect of being here permanently would be terrifying for anyone, but Julian whispered in her ear harshly:

“Akot, don’t panic. The patients need your reassurance, they are all scared. You need to be strong for them. And we – Vonek, Telat, Moje and I, we will find a cure. I promise you. I won’t sleep until I do. All right?”

His heart was breaking just looking at her. All she needed was to be reassured, and here he was, telling her how to be a good little Cardassian. 

So he stopped in the middle of the corridor and hugged her. 

Tightly.

She clung to him and started weeping openly. 

He realized he was now the only person on Cardassia, aside from the other patients in the ward, who would be allowed to touch her. So he did. Held her firmly and rubbed her slight back. She was so slender, malnourished. Perpetually tired but usually positive. He wondered whether he would ever see her smile again.

When her tears ran dry and she looked him in the eye, weary and resigned, he took her face gently in his hands and pressed a soft kiss to her _chufa_.

“Don’t give up hope, Akot. We will solve this. I swear it.”

She inclined her head in a gesture of acceptance and allowed him to escort her to her new room. 

A new kind of determination burned in him now. 

Everything else could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor dears. :(


	66. Pythas Lok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian hurries home to ask Elim for advice.
> 
> Garak calls his old colleague and friend, Pythas Lok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New music I made! 
> 
> [Just Barely Out of Reach](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190182497101/another-entry-for-what-is-slowly-turning-into-an) , goes wonderfully with chapter 14, "Reunions and Revelations"!
> 
> and, possibly my new favorite:
> 
> [Too Many Secrets Poison the Soul](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190194161496/this-is-a-complicated-one-its-applicable-to), accompanies the stretch of chapters from 49 to 52. Minayuri mentioned this as a possible love theme for Garak and Julian and I just stopped dead in my tracks. I was like... wow. Never thought of it that way but now I can't unsee it! Thanks for that! Let's make that official, haha! I am completely fine with this symbolizing the thorny road to love they've had!

Julian considered calling Elim from the Research Center but decided against it. If his idea had any merit, they would need to be discreet, and he wasn't exactly known for it. Better leave it to the former spy. 

He didn’t even tell Zeyem about it, which meant he was only allowed home around 19:00 hours. 

A brief skimmer ride later, he all but ran to the shed.

As soon as he was inside, Elim was on his feet, clearly ready for an emergency.

He must have looked a fright to make the usually unruffled man so agitated.

“Elim, are you certain this place is safe? No listening devices or anything?”

Garak went pale and fetched a scanner from one of his many boxes, proceeding (presumably) to sweep the premises for anything of the sort. 

Fifteen minutes later, after an extensive visual search, Elim switched off his device and turned to face him.

“It should be. Speak.”

Julian sighed in relief, his paranoia assuaged for the moment and collapsed onto the cot.

“I need information.”

“On who?” Elim asked, all business.

“Not who,” Julian said tiredly, “but what.”

With that, he took a PADD out of his bag and extended it towards Elim, who picked it up without a word.

Those gray ridges were still and stiff as Elim skimmed its contents with absolute focus. 

“This is the virus which has been causing trouble for you, isn’t it?” The former spy observed.

Julian nodded. 

“We lost eleven patients today. That number will only grow. Elim,” Julian said in clear frustration, “Neither Zeyem nor I managed to make a dent in this thing. It’s almost as if it was designed to resist anything Cardassian medicine can throw at it – so I’ve been trying treatments effective on other compatible races I’m familiar with, to no avail. Nothing we try seems to make the slightest difference! And I thought… The Obsidian Order used to have information on pretty much everything Cardassians came into contact with, and if that were the case… Please tell me you have access to a surviving copy of their database, or, barring that, ask your friend, Eight Lubak. We need to crack this thing, as soon as possible.”

“It’s not just the patients, is it?” Elim asked, entirely too perceptively.

Julian’s face contorted in anguish.

“Akot\- Ghar I mean, got careless today… Forgot her gloves and got infected. I…” Julian trailed off and hugged himself. “I can’t bear to see everyone so shaken, Elim… Moje tried to remain stoic, but I could see how much it hurt her to send her trainee to the room with all the other doomed patients…”

Julian was shivering.

“She’s so young, Elim, she doesn’t deserve to die!” He cried out, allowing all his worry to spill out here where there were no patients to unsettle. 

Elim stony expression softened.

“We will do all we can so it doesn’t come to that.”

Julian merely looked at Elim in gratitude.

Once the tailor deemed him sufficiently reassured, he reached for one of the boxes and took out a communicator. After a minute or so of fiddling with it, he stilled.

Crackling silence filled the air. 

Then a voice.

Feminine.

Stern and disapproving.

It was Nal Dejar.

“Who is this?” It asked.

“It’s me.” Elim replied and added icily, “This call isn’t for you.”

“He is resting, I won’t have him disturbed for your whims-“

Elim cut her off uncompromisingly:

“This is not for you to decide. And if you want to wait around and waste time while good Cardassians keep dying from something you could have prevented had you been taught to be sensible-“

“I’m here.” A raspy voice traveled over the comm.

_ Pythas _ _ Lok _ . Julian knew. 

“What is it, Elim?” The man said, his voice clearly pained but uncaring about his own discomfort.

“I need access to the database. We are in need of medical information. Sending the data now.”

For a long moment, there was only silence and then some shuffling.

“The point of origin?” Pythas asked and Elim looked to Julian.

“Our best guess is the Munda’ar Sector.” Julian said wearily, hoping the information would mean something more to Lok than it did to him.

“Acknowledged.” Pythas said. “Give me a day.”

“Thank you, my friend.” Elim said honestly.

Pythas didn’t respond in any further meaningful way and the call disconnected.

“So…” Julian trailed off… “What do we do now? Just wait?”

Elim put his equipment away and sat by his side. 

“Yes, my dear. We wait.”

Julian knew that real-life spy work meant a lot of waiting, so he swallowed his impatience and his dread and leaned his head against Elim’s shoulder.

They would wait, as there was precious else they could do.

Julian only hoped Akot was holding herself together.

His heart would break if anything happened to her.

And when the man put his arm around him, Julian burrowed into his embrace and allowed Elim’s grounding presence to soothe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this little cameo by Lok! He's such a mystery though! Very hard to write him...


	67. A Time for Giving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian grapples with his feelings for the Cardassian patients he's treating.
> 
> He decides to open up to them and learns more about Ghar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We dive into the situation at the Research Center! 
> 
> If you have a soft spot for Ghar, a tissue might be necessary.

Things were fine while he was in Elim's firm embrace, clinging to him the way ivy crept up a brick wall, but when time came to leave for work, Julian's anxiety ratcheted up a notch or two.

Or fifty.

Not even the memory of the man’s soothing smell could overwrite this wretched feeling. 

The memory of failure – bitter, sharp and all-consuming.

The internal body-count meter never stopped increasing. 

A ball of lead took up a seemingly permanent residence in his gut, heavy and merciless and always ready to remind him he was a failure. 

Akot was just lying there in the ward, staring up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. 

Julian wanted nothing more than to go in there and comfort her, but was currently feeling so rough, so raw, that he was hyper-aware of the fact that if he went in there – he’d fall apart both in front of her and all of their other patients, who didn’t need any more negativity heaped upon them. 

They weren’t stupid. They knew what was going on. 

Julian was usually able to go in there and cheerfully distract them for at least fifteen minutes, making them talk to him about their loved ones or hobbies, or troubles…

Each subsequent room was less chatty than the previous one. 

The patients in the third and fourth rooms were mostly detached. 

Resigned.

Stoic.

It broke Julian’s resolve, along with his heart. 

He didn’t know why this was so hard on him, he’d lost many patients during his career, and plagues counted among those, and while this wasn’t the first time he got overly attached to a cause, this particular one was giving him a terrible, soul-crushing feeling of dread. 

The stakes weren’t higher, not as of yet; not like in the past. 

But this was somehow more personal. 

This wasn’t a Federation mission.

Or a Federation-run station. 

It was Cardassia – abandoned by virtually everybody, the leper of the Quadrant – the traitor.

But all Julian saw were people.

Starving, suffering people.

People he had grown to love.

It was utterly nerve-racking. 

His habitual cool attitude and professional mask were slipping. He couldn’t school his expression into something polite and detached anymore. 

Neither could Gaddik, whom Julian caught talking to Trengem around noon,

“Vonek, this is unbearable! I cannot even touch them to soothe them!”

The usually cool and competent Trengem held his lover tightly and murmured into his hair:

“Speak to them then, show them with words.”

Gaddik trembled and stilled in his partner’s embrace.

They were all high-strung. 

Zeyem was stuck in the lab, trying who knows what crazy approach and when Julian tried to go see her progress, he heard a muffled scream of rage from inside and the sound of a glass container shattering against the wall. 

Even Moje, their bedrock, was losing it. 

How could she not, Julian thought, when her youngest staff member, who they were all strangely protective of, was lying in the ward for the condemned?

He was the only one who could touch the patients to offer them comfort.

What did his fear matter?

Or his anxiety?

They needed it, and could only get it from a human.

An alien.

Other.

He simply _had to_ offer. 

Wouldn’t feel right otherwise.

He was a doctor; his compassion had limits only because he had limits. 

But this wasn’t about compartmentalizing anymore, or being a functional Cardassian who could put aside any awful thing running in the back of his mind if it served the collective; no, this was about his strange new weakness. 

He loved them.

Couldn’t bear their pain.

Then he realized that in his life, running away had seldom helped. 

This wasn’t a time to run away.

This was a time to immerse himself.

And give.

So when he passed Gaddik in the corridor again, he grasped the man by the elbow and said solemnly:

“I will do it. I will soothe them.”

Telat gave him a deeply complex look and signaled with nothing but his eyes that he understood. 

Julian grappled for that feeling he had during the meeting of the Oralian Way, and then in the dream; that blanket sensation of safety and love which had been bestowed upon him. He felt his inner being flooding with golden light, so he stepped into the first room and let his tendrils reach out to every person in there.

He smiled at them, shared the good news that they were chasing a promising lead and gave what they were ready to receive. Some were happy with words, some allowed more.

When he sat by Akot’s side, she sat up and hugged him.

The embrace was overflowing with her sweet and youthful gratitude.

She had such a soothing energy, vibrant and airy. 

Julian realized she had wormed her way into his heart as surely as Zeyem had. 

One felt like his mother now.

The other like a younger sister he never had. 

“I’m here, Akot… Telat misses you. They all miss you.”

A choked little sound escaped her, getting muffled in the fabric covering his shoulder. 

“I don’t want to die…” She whispered in his ear as quietly as she could. “There would be no one left to take care of my younger brother…” She trembled and Julian held her tighter.

The stakes were so much higher for her, he realized.

Zeyem had nobody but her staff. 

Gaddik and Trengem only seemed to have one another but they were both grown men. Had been for a long time.

And this young woman had a sibling to take care of.

“Tell me about him.” Julian said kindly, realizing he truly wanted to know. “Tell me everything.”

Her eyes glittered with happiness as she talked about her baby brother – his name was Elkan, he was twelve, really shy and introverted, loved collecting insects and little lizards to keep them as pets and he loved her more than anything in the world, even before the Fire, except now it was more literal, because she had become his entire world. 

“He calls me _Mommy Sis_, ever since our mother died when he was three,” she said and sniffled, her eyes welling with tears. “I can’t leave him all alone!” Akot whimpered, unable to stop her tears. 

Julian gripped her hand and let his own tears fall. 

There was no use pretending anymore. 

“You won’t leave him alone. You will see him grow up to be the most amazing zoologist Cardassia has ever seen, and he will make you so proud you will never even remember today happened.”

Akot smiled and wept, shaking and signaling yes with her pale chin. 

Julian stayed with her for over an hour.

He regretted nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried both writing and reading this. Akot is such a nice girl!


	68. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian decides to stay at the Center overnight.
> 
> Zeyem tells him more about herself and the rest of the staff.

It was with great reluctance and weariness that Julian called Elim from Zeyem's office; telling him he would be staying in the Center over night. The circumstances didn’t allow for anything else. And when he asked whether there were any news or updates on you-know-what, Elim said he was still waiting. 

Julian hoped this was the truth, and not some misguided attempt to appease him by lessening his burden. That would be such an Elim thing to do. 

“Please, don’t do anything reckless,” Julian entreated, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Elim’s crackly voice still soothed over distance, and he spoke softly:

“Worry not, my dear, I will exercise all necessary caution.”

“I miss you.” Julian confessed, knowing Elim would read between the lines.

“Soon, beloved.”

Again, the mistranslation.

Well, now he knew what it meant. 

_ Mirror of my soul _ .

Julian had found his. 

Loved him, so strongly.

Not for the first time, the thought left him with a sense of wonder.

He was about to tell Elim he loved him, unable to help himself, when the call got dropped. 

This already long day was beginning to feel interminable. 

All he wanted was to cure this disgusting disease, hug Akot, and go home to Elim.

Not for another day, though. Who knew when his duties would allow him to see the man next? 

He closed his eyes and allowed the thought of their last kiss to sustain him.

“Any news, little Bashir?” Zeyem asked as she entered the room. 

“Not yet,” Julian replied tiredly, “Though I suspect Elim may be lying to me. He is both considerate enough not to wish to worry me, and stubborn enough to go deal with it himself.”

Zeyem snickered at that.

“That’s what happens when you put two air men together – they float away…”

This was supposed to be humorous, but Zeyem’s delivery was much too weary to come across as light-hearted fun. 

“Elim will find a way. He is notoriously resourceful and inventive when he needs to be.”

“Good thing I know this for myself, or I would be dismissing your words for sentimental drivel that it probably is.”

This actually made him laugh. 

“I don’t know what you see in that man, but he is competent, I will give him that.” Zeyem admitted grudgingly. Her respect was obviously not easily given.

“That sounds like you dislike him.” Julian observed.

Zeyem looked at him with her piercing stare. 

“Dislike? No. Distrust? Very much so.”

“Why?” Julian asked, slightly perplexed.

“He has the face of a liar. A very well-practiced one, at that. And in my profession, dealing with liars has always been bothersome. It’s both a reflex and well-honed intuition at this point. He has his own agenda, and you can never tell what it might be. And a man whose motives aren’t discernible is a very dangerous man indeed.”

“He wants what’s best for Cardassia.” Julian said earnestly, which only made her scoff. 

“What’s best for Cardassia! Every fool and the vole in their cupboard have an idea about what’s _best_ for Cardassia!” She said dismissively.

“Zeyem,” He said softly, “Moje… I don’t know how much you know about Elim, but you should know this – his heart is in the right place. He loves his people, always had. Not the power, or the State, no… The people. And that’s all you really need to know about his motivations.”

“By Akleen – the passionate words of a lover! We have a saying here, little Bashir – _Pity a blind man, but pity the one in love more._”

“I am serious, Moje. I’d like to believe I know him better than anyone in this world, and not just because we have been friends for almost eight years. He has been conditioned to hide what he thinks or feels, to the point where he was more of a vault than a living person. That is what your oppressive regime did to people. Made them into liars and weapons.”

This seemed to make her ponder.

“Bashir,” She said gravely, “I thought I was too old to change my ways – before the War, and the Fire.”

Silence stretched on for a long while.

“But then I survived it. Lost more than half of my staff, watched some of them bleed out before my eyes. In my entire career, all forty-five years of it, I have never seen such wanton destruction. As doctors, we all get desensitized to the more revolting aspects of our ailing bodies. After a while, we stop noticing the emotional pains that follow. We surrender to the routine and we do our job. That is how I’ve been for the past fifteen years or so. Nothing agitated me, and my staff called me _Mount Zeyem_ behind my back – as if I couldn’t hear them, but you know what, little Bashir? It was a point of _pride_! A mountain doesn’t move, barring some cataclysmic event.”

Her eyes were blazing in the low light he’d become accustomed to. 

“And then fate must have decided I was to be put to the test. Suddenly, my home was gone. So I abandoned it. The Research Center had been more of a home to me anyhow, so the transition was painless. Then, I tasked my staff to clear out the rubble and bury our dead, provided nobody came for them. They obeyed me without question.”

Julian didn’t doubt it. She had such a commanding presence.

“The ones who remained were not the people I had worked with for years – some lost children, some lost spouses, parents, siblings… Some lost everything. Some just wished to run away from all this. The old me would have eviscerated them for their appalling lack of dedication to their duty… But I wasn’t the same person as I was before. The mountain had cracked. I had no way of knowing how deep that fissure went.”

“You… let them go.” Julian stated softly.

“Yes, Bashir. I let them go. Then, when other hospital centers needed staff, I let them volunteer. When Trengem and Gaddik showed up dusty and tired after being unable to find a place to sleep, I gave them room here. I had observed these men for twenty years, in Gaddik’s case, and fifteen in Trengem’s. But they weren’t the same people anymore. I couldn’t treat them as if they were. They had both been married, before. As soon as the fires stopped burning, Vonek’s wife left Prime. All she left him were filed and signed papers for separation. She must have been sitting on them for quite a while. Telat… That man has a story too sad to tell. I am certain I don’t know the half of it. The men I once knew, professional, cool… They were no more. And my poor Akot, no more than a trainee, shaken by the loss of her Father and her grandparents, left with a child to take care of… She had changed the least. Still so sweet and innocent, rare in a girl her age – rare on Cardassia. So, when we all sat in the kitchen, eating whatever the replicator felt in the mood for that day, I used their first names.”

Julian gulped. It was such a powerful image. 

“And they reciprocated?” He guessed.

“Only Telat, at first. He’d known me the longest and likely feared me the least. That man isn’t prone to fear, not that kind, at least.”

“But the rest… followed.”

“After a while, yes.” She acquiesced. 

“You…” Julian began, trying to understand. “Opened up to them… Accepted them…”

Zeyem smiled.

“And, in turn, they were gracious enough to do the same.”

Julian understood.

“They… they are almost like your family now, aren’t they?”

“Not _almost_, Bashir, and not _like_, either. They _are_ my family. They feel and act more like family than my real family ever did. I am old enough and irreverent enough to admit it now. To myself, and to others.”

“They love you, Zeyem.” Julian blinked away the moisture in his eyes. “They depend on you.”

“And in return, I protect them.”

A simple statement, an acknowledgement – nothing more.

“I’m… part of it too, now… aren’t I?” Julian asked in mild disbelief.

Zeyem smiled and grasped his elbow gently.

“Akot is our beating heart, Bashir. She has two uncles, the gentle Telat who spoils her and the grumpy, overly protective Vonek; a stern and demanding grandmother and now – a brother.”

Julian’s tears threatened to overflow, guided by his quivering heart.

“And I… who have never wanted, nor intended to have children… now have a son.”

Julian’s face crumpled and he let the overwhelming emotion carry him, wash him away into the safety of her arms.

He knew _exactly_ what she meant.

What he had never gotten from Amsha, the poor, co-dependent enabler to his narcissistic father, he had managed to stumble onto in the place he least expected.

It may have been completely out of the blue, but he cherished it all the more for it. 

He’d come to Cardassia to mend a friendship-

-and got a family instead.

He allowed gratitude to fill his every crack and fissure and wondered whether Zeyem felt the same. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mushy mush! As always, I live for your feedback!


	69. What Do I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian converses with Zeyem and Akot.
> 
> One conversation is teasing, the other is not.
> 
> Both are quite illuminating.

Julian didn't know why he expected the 24-hour deadline to be met. Perhaps because two (three?) impressive people, all former Obsidian Order agents, were on the job. But when the time came and went, Julian was starting to fret. He’d busied himself with his work, but not even that could effectively distract him.

He’d barely gotten any sleep. It was currently past 07:00 hours and there was still no word from Elim.

He yawned widely over his console and heard a soft swoosh behind him. 

Zeyem handed him a cup of something he couldn’t identify. Trusting her not to poison him, he took a sip. Nearly choking on it, he spluttered:

“Moje, what is this thing?! It’s bitter as hell!”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“It’s _gelat_, you uneducated fool. What does your barbarian kind drink when they want a dose of caffeine?”

“Er, a raktajino, usually. With a lot of sugar, preferably.”

She looked affronted. 

“Speaking of sugar…” Julian pushed his luck, “Any chance I could have some?”

“Absolutely not! Spoiling a perfectly good _gelat_!”

Julian wanted to chuckle, but was preparing to drink it as it was, because he was loath to disappoint her and spurn her kindness. 

“I should have known,” She narrowed her eyes at him, “That you like your men the way you like your _gelat_ – bitter and strong, yet nauseatingly sweet to overcompensate.”

Julian blushed furiously.

“Oh yes, did you think I didn’t notice? The way Garak ran to your side, like a riding hound in heat?”

“Zeyem!” Julian said aghast.

She snickered.

“He’s gone soft, Bashir.” She said in a singsong voice, “Gone weak over a soft little human who stole his cold, obsidian heart!”

Julian wondered whether he’d always been a glutton for punishment, or whether Garak had primed him for it. 

Zeyem’s features mellowed at that and she soothed,

“It’s reassuring to see him so openly protective of you. A person who can inspire such loyalty in a calculated man like Garak, must be special indeed.” The glint in her eyes was teasing, but he could read between the lines. She liked him and was relieved Garak would go to such lengths to keep him safe.

If only the man took such care with himself…

“I’m worried about him… This silence is… unnerving.”

“If there’s anyone who can take care of himself, it’s Garak. The man is like a vole!”

“What, hard to exterminate?” Julian snarked.

“No!” Zeyem started laughing heartily, “Ugly!”

Julian stared at her, trying not to betray his amusement and attempting his best scolding face. 

She rolled her eyes at him like he was naught but a silly child and muttered:

“I know you chose him, I know! I shall stop expressing my doubts as to your taste now.”

He simply couldn’t stay mad at her, no matter how snarky she got. This trait of hers reminded him a lot of Elim, actually, though he had a sneaking suspicion that she would take offense if he voiced that opinion aloud, so he wisely refrained. 

“What does Akot like to drink?” Julian asked, thinking it would be nice to bring her something.

“Rokassa juice.” Zeyem said fondly and walked to the replicator to authorize a dose.

Julian was well aware this was a massive indulgence, but he also knew Zeyem felt sorry for the poor girl. This must be her way of showing she cared.

It was sweet. 

Once the beverage materialized, she handed it to Julian.

“Go. Take it to her, it will cheer her up. She hasn’t had any in months.”

Julian looked at her warmly and accepted the cup.

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring it to her yourself? It would mean a lot to her.”

She merely smiled at him indulgently.

“She will know it came from me, as I am the only one allowed to authorize such frivolous things, but if I went there myself, she would dissolve into tears over keeping me from my work. Best not upset the poor thing unduly.”

Julian shook his head, bemused by the rationale but complied. 

Two flights of stairs and a thorough scan later, he stepped into the Quarantine Ward.

Akot was already awake and fiddling with a PADD. 

Her bright eyes widened in surprise and undisguised pleasure as soon as she saw him. 

“I brought you something.” He said kindly and sat by her side.

“My favorite!” She exclaimed happily and took it from his hands. “Where have you managed to get this?”

“Courtesy of Zeyem.”

Akot’s eyes flashed with turmoil.

“Why would she waste valuable resources on me?”

“Akot…” Julian said soothingly and caressed her forehead, “It’s not a waste. You are family now, and family takes care of one another. Isn’t that so?”

The young woman blinked and smiled weakly. 

“It’s… highly unusual, unprecedented even, but…” Here she trailed off, cradling the glass protectively, like it was a symbol of something precious. 

Julian supposed it was.

“It means the world, doesn’t it?” He offered softly, in an effort to soothe her.

She looked at him wistfully and gave the tiniest of nods.

“What are you working on, there?” Julian inquired.

“Writing a letter to my brother. In case I-“ Her eyes glistened and she blinked rapidly to rid herself of the sentiment. 

“It won’t come to that, Akot.” Julian reassured, “There will be news soon, I know it.”

“I… I appreciate the thought, Ju-“ Here she curled a bit into herself, looking even smaller than usual. “Bashir, but… One should be realistic. And not preparing for such an… eventuality would be most irresponsible towards my kin, so…”

He’d noticed her aborted attempt to call him by his first name.

“Feel free to address me as Julian. I think we’re way past the point of formality.”

She seemed both grateful and apprehensive, but she murmured anyways, a soft and almost furtive-

“Julian.”

“What are you worried about, Akot?” Julian attempted to steer the conversation to what was troubling her, hoping it would ease her mind to at least discuss it.

“Elkan, he… If I die, he will be… without kin.”

Julian realized what the issue was at once. 

The boy would become an orphan.

“And he isn’t suited to such a fate, he’s such a gentle boy, I can’t-“ She trembled and took a fortifying sip of her juice. “I will have to ask Moje… How can I even…” Her words failed her and she fell quiet, staring at her glass and her hands.

Julian was trying to fill in the blanks. If the worst happened, the boy would need a new guardian. It would probably be unofficial, as most things were on Cardassia these days, but that clearly wasn’t a primary concern. She just likely needed someone to look after the boy, to take him in…

Julian was struck by a powerful urge to be that person, but… He couldn’t. It would be monstrous to take the boy with him in little over a month, to rip him away from all that was familiar…

The Federation would likely make minimal fuss over him adopting a Cardassian child, but he didn’t wish to expose a shy little boy to the sadly still present prejudice of the Bajoran population on Deep Space 9. 

Then he thought about Rekat and Phela. They probably longed to have Elim as a father.

A brief thought flashed through his mind’s eye – him and Elim, side by side, surrounded by a gaggle of mischievous and loud Cardassian children. Rekat would be mouthing off to Elim about something, while Elkan showed Phela some small lizard he had managed to capture – the little reptile’s head peeking from the enclosure of his clasped palms to Phela’s obvious delight.

The image was enrapturing. 

But… He was going back to DS9 soon… He wouldn’t be here to see the children grow.

And Elim… Couldn’t adopt. Not alone.

If he had only been more careful, possessed more self-discipline… Parmak and Elim might’ve…

Enjoined couples had higher chances to adopt… 

There was an insidious pain, spreading through his ribcage. 

He didn’t want to leave.

He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Elim behind again.

Or the image of Parmak and Elim…

He wanted this for himself. 

Selfishly.

Like a child overprotective of his favorite toy.

It was pathetic.

But this opened a serious question, one he knew would need to be addressed, and quite soon.

_ What do I want?  _

_ For my future? _ _ _

Elim . He wanted Elim in his future. 

Just imagining a return to his Starfleet duties filled him with a dull fear.

There would come a day when he wouldn’t be able to see Elim’s face first thing in the morning.

His days would be empty without the man – no warm embrace in the evenings, no debates over breakfast, no sparkling blue eyes to liven up his day.

Just the thought of the station he’d called home for over seven years – the cold 22°C, the bright lights, the sterile environment…

It filled him with inexplicable dread. 

He didn’t just love Elim, he _needed_ him.

Staying somewhere, away from his warmth, for months at a time held absolutely no appeal.

_ I don’t want to leave… _ He realized. _This is my place now._

This was home.

“I don’t even dare ask Moje to take him in…” Akot said in a small voice. 

Julian realized that Zeyem was the person Akot had chosen - would choose to entrust her brother to.

“She would.” Julian said, feeling absolutely certain. “If you asked her, she definitely would.”

“But… It would be such a burden! I can’t abuse her kindness-“

“She loves you, Akot. I am sure she would love him every bit as much and every bit as fiercely.”

Akot sniffled and retreated into her glass once more.

“Does it taste nice?” Julian asked kindly.

“Mhmm…” She murmured in assent and sipped it in silence, savoring her treat. 

Julian looked at his colleague and felt warmth.

She was now his sister.

His kin.

It felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once he knows what he wants, Julian moves fast! I hope you don't think it too fast!
> 
> Your thoughts are always welcome! 
> 
> I wonder if anyone's picked up the trail of breadcrumbs for the final big misunderstanding of the story?


	70. A Double-Edged Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After 48 hours with no word, Julian is worried about Garak.
> 
> The cure is found but has unpleasant consequences...

It's been 48 hours. 

Still nothing.

He was past fretting.

Past worry.

He was despairing.

Only something truly terrible could prevent Elim from getting in touch.

Perhaps he was lying somewhere, in need of medical attention, in need of help-

Fighting to breathe-

Infected-

“I can taste your doom from over here, and if you don’t stop right this instant, I will sedate you! Is that clear?”

Zeyem’s harsh words tore through his anxiety like claws of a terrifying predator. 

He wanted to listen to her.

He really did.

It was highly illogical and not to mention unproductive, to keep thinking this way. 

But he couldn’t help it. 

How could he?

With the other half of his being missing?

_ He’s in danger. _

Julian could feel it. 

Taste it.

In every painful thump of his heart against the white prison of his chest.

Still, he had to push it aside.

His patients needed him.

_ What about what I need?  _

All he needed was to know Elim was safe. 

Nothing more.

“Moje, I am worried.” He voiced his concern openly, unable to even attempt to conceal it further.

“I know.” Zeyem sighed in irritation. “Everybody knows. You are being terribly unsubtle about it.” 

“I nearly lost him…” He whispered. “If he…”

If Elim was found dead, Julian…

Couldn’t contemplate it.

It was too terrifying.

But he could feel it.

A cold, dark chasm within him.

Gaping and grasping and empty.

If the Fire created a fissure in Zeyem, Elim’s death would do something much worse to him.

Just as he had begun to feel safe, to have it all ripped away…

_ I wouldn’t survive _ .

Not the way he was now. 

If a mollusk kept coating an irritant trapped in its tender interior to prevent injury, Julian would need so many layers of nacre around _this_ injury that it would choke his flesh, leaving behind nothing but a dead lump of calcium carbonate in the shape of a man. 

“Bashir…” Gaddik said softly and grasped his elbow reassuringly, “Your chosen will be all right. Just be patient for a little while longer.”

Julian pondered the kind words. 

He had chosen, hadn’t he?

Long before Ezri left him.

He had chosen to put his relationship aside, to put his career on hold, all to see the man he couldn’t let go of. 

What if that letter wasn’t just a hopeful plea to see him?

What if it had been Elim’s attempt to let him go?

What would have happened had he opted not to come to Cardassia?

“Telat…” Julian tried to express himself, tried to thank the nurse for the gentle reassurance, but couldn’t.

“I would feel the same if Vonek went missing.” The Cardassian said understandingly. 

The harsh tones of the man in question drifted in:

“Luckily for you, I’m standing right behind you, trying to tune out this unproductive blathering.”

Gaddik turned to look at his partner in admonishment. 

“Your tactlessness is a cruelty, Vonek. It’s not to your credit.”

Trengem just seemed irritated by this.

“Speaking about this when we have no information whatsoever isn’t helpful, Telat.”

Gaddik sighed and Julian could sense his underlying frustration, even if it was nestled in love.

“Perhaps one day you will learn that speaking just to be heard has merits enough.”

Telat’s words resonated. 

Julian sighed and ran his palms over his face.

“I’m sorry…” He apologized to everyone present. “I know I am being terribly unprofessional, and I promise you, this isn’t how I usually act. I just… can’t seem to… extricate myself from this thought.”

Gaddik had started saying something, when there was a loud bleep coming from Zeyem’s console.

They were all currently in a small office in the Quarantine Ward and Julian wasn’t surprised in the least that Head Zeyem was still hard at work, trying to crack this thing.

She pressed something on the console and a voice carried through:

“It’s taken care of.”

“Elim!” Julian jumped from his seat and rushed to the console almost like his life depended on it.

Elim , however, was currently ignoring him and speaking to Zeyem.

“Sending the fully decrypted files and the formula to you now. I suggest you start synthesizing enough for your needs, and then stockpile the vaccines. We will need to vaccinate the entire population.”

Julian was shocked. 

“The cure is defective, I’m afraid, but we have no choice.” The former spy said in a grave voice Julian was startled to witness.

“Elim, you’re bleeding!” Julian cried out.

Garak merely swiped a hand across his forehead ridges and when it came away bloody, he looked at his fingers in mild distaste. 

“It’s superficial. Isn’t even worth mentioning.”

“Where were you, I was worried sick about you! Two days without a single word! I thought you’d gotten yourself killed!”

“Zeyem, ignore him and do as I said. I am coming over; see you in a time unit.”

With that the line went dead and Julian was left staring in shock. 

Elim had just… ignored him.

Blown him off.

He was wondering why when Zeyem let out an enraged cry. 

“That FILTH!”

Gaddik and Trengem ran up to the console to peer at the data. 

“I knew this thing was engineered specifically to target us, but _this!_”

Julian stared at the rapid stream of symbols flickering across his screen.

Zeyem was busily punching in commands and Julian could hear the replicator behind his back coming to life. 

“No..” Gaddik said softly, clearly overwhelmed by the information and Julian saw Trengem shaking with fury. 

“I should have been more vigilant! If I had, Akot wouldn’t be…” His voice was quivering and Julian witnessed the shaken Gaddik half-turning to rest his forehead against the one of his partner. 

Zeyem pulled a hypo out of her pocket and commanded:

“Telat, Vonek, be still. I’m giving you a vaccine.”

The men didn’t even acknowledge this and allowed her to dose them. 

But-

Wait.

She was currently synthesizing the cure.

Where did the vaccine come from?

He would have noticed if she had used the replicator for two different things now.

“Moje…” He looked at her critically, almost accusingly. “Where did that vaccine come from?”

She looked at him coldly.

“From Garak. He sent the information over during the night.”

Julian gasped in disbelief.

“And you didn’t even see fit to mention it?!”

“Save the dramatics for after, Bashir. We have a ward full of people to… _cure_.” The way she spat the last word was significant, but he hadn’t yet managed to divine what this flaw in the cure was.

Still, he shut his mouth and concentrated on the data.

This virus was…

Engineered.

To cull.

To exterminate.

Propagated by touch, because of an awareness that the Cardassians use it often in their social interactions. 

Made by…

The Breen.

Julian was outraged.

The vaccine - effective. A tool, an incentive, should it be used.

And the cure – a double-edged sword.

Preserving the life while taking from it.

There was nothing defective about this cure. 

It was deliberately and cruelly designed.

“Bastards!” Julian slammed the heel of his palm against the edge of the console.

Zeyem was in full-on battle mode, issuing rapid-fire orders.

“Telat, Vonek, you’re on room 3 first. Take these and go.”

Trengem stopped and asked:

“What do we tell them?”

Zeyem’s eyes were cold and uncompromising.

“Nothing. Tell them you have the cure. What they do afterwards is none of my concern.”

With a slight bow, the two men left, carrying a box of hypos and refill vials.

“That’s unethical, Zeyem.” Julian said harshly. “The patients have a right to know about the side-effect.”

She looked at him like he was both pitiful and ignorant, then spat out venomously:

“My duty is to the life that already exists, Bashir! Besides, I am living proof that one can serve Cardassia without any need to propagate one’s genes!”

She was… harsh.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t right.

“You’re with me on room 4.” She said icily. “And as you are so concerned about this, I will let _you _be the one to inform Akot.”

Julian’s eyes widened at her sudden and uncharacteristic vindictiveness. 

How does one tell a vibrant young girl that she will never again be able to…

Zeyem marched out of the room, her back ramrod stiff and painfully straight. 

He trailed after her and followed her into the 4th. 

Dividing the work, they went from patient to patient and dosed them.

He wondered how many of them were too far gone to save. 

Zeyem worked in absolute silence and Julian emulated her. 

It wasn’t like he had anything to say.

Once they were done, Zeyem dropped by the 3rd to tell the nurses about their progress, and that it would be up to them to take care of 2nd, once they were done. 

Then she walked over to the 1st and Julian noticed a split second hesitation in her step, before she proceeded. 

Excited chatter filled the room.

The patients looked at Zeyem and she notified them a cure had been found, which caused palpable ripples of relief in the Cardassians. 

Akot was beaming at them, sitting on her cot, patiently waiting her turn. 

Julian wondered whether Zeyem would make him dose Akot and he hoped not. 

He wouldn’t be able to do it without telling her the consequences first. 

Taking the hypo, Julian started administering the cruelly designed cure. 

It felt wrong to do it like this, to hide the truth from them.

They deserved to know.

A little ugly voice whispered insidiously from a shadowy corner of his mind:

_ Just like Ezri deserved to know?  _

_ Just like Elim? _

_ “Too many secrets poison the soul…” _

_ _

Julian realized he’d been poisoning himself all this time.

All his life.

He was saturated with it, overflowing – contaminated.

_ I need to tell Elim. _

The image of his daydream floated across his consciousness.

A family.

Happiness.

_ I could lose it all… _

He shivered.

And then, he was looking at Akot, who was regarding him with such trust and affection it broke his heart cleanly in two.

Julian sat by her side and looked her in the eye, allowing her to see the full scope of his anguish.

He gripped the vile, yet life-saving hypo tightly and tried to find the words.

“What’s wrong, Julian?” She asked, so earnestly that he wanted to cry. 

He swallowed and muttered in a low voice:

“This hypo… it will save your life. It will take away the disease.”

“But…?” She asked tentatively, clearly realizing things weren’t quite so simple.

“You’ll never be able to…” He hesitated, feeling awful about it. “It will render you… sterile.”

Her eyes went wide.

Her lovely face was a frozen mask.

“I’m so sorry, Akot.” Julian whispered, overcome by compassion for his chosen sister. 

But then, slowly, her facial muscles relaxed and she offered a slight, bitter-sweet smile. 

Her slender fingers reached into his clenched hand and pulled out the hypo.

“Are you-“ He’d started to ask, but it was already done; the hiss against her jaw line loud and definitive.

After putting the hypo away, she grasped his hands and looked at him kindly.

“I’m sure… brother.”

Julian’s throat was tight.

Then she brightened and laughed airily.

“Now I’m just like Moje!” 

A sharp and pained inhale reached Julian’s ears and he realized Zeyem was standing nearby.

In half a second, the old matron sat next to Akot and revealed a face so honest and grieved, it made his own sentiments pale in comparison. 

“My dear girl…” The mighty woman said with a voice full of emotion. 

He watched Akot smile warmly and lean in until their foreheads met. 

For a person who had given up the chance of ever giving birth, Zeyem had the heart of a mother.

“Thank you for saving my life…” Akot murmured, separating from Moje slowly.

She must have seen how despondent he was, because her eyes glistened with reassurance.

“Don’t look so sad, Julian. Or have you forgotten?” The young woman smiled at him widely. “I’m already a mother!”

Julian trembled and signaled yes, not trusting his voice.

Elkan would get to keep his elder sister.

And that…

That was wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew... Now you know who made the virus!! Soon we shall answer why and when!
> 
> Ghar is safe, phew.
> 
> As always, I live for your thoughts!


	71. Growth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian ponders what to say to Garak for this latest stunt he's pulled.
> 
> Then, he realizes he has grown.

Zeyem had told him to greet Elim and to bring him to her office, while the nurses Gaddik and Trengem continued to monitor the patients. 

Julian was grateful for the errand, because it would give him time to come up with whatever the hell it was he wanted to communicate to the stubborn former spy.

It would also give them a bit of privacy. Perhaps that is what Zeyem had intended.

Or maybe she just wanted him out of the way while her anger with him cooled. 

Either way, it was quite considerate of her. 

So he waited patiently for the sterilization field to clear him, and then took the staircase to the ground floor. Being left in the dark like this was unacceptable. 

_ Lying to him is even worse. _

But two wrongs didn't make a right, and he knew it would soon be time to come clean to Elim. From what he'd gathered, the tailor seemed to want this... relationship… just as much, if not more than Julian did. He only wished he knew how long Elim had felt this way. 

It didn't matter much, in the grand scheme of things, but the truth might reveal just how deep his self-deception went. Because Elim, as subtle as he was, had been showing signs of interest for far longer than Julian would care to admit. Even as far as their first meeting... Which had clearly been orchestrated by the scheming Cardassian, by the way. The only question was – orchestrated for what purpose? Now that he knew how Elim flirted... Suddenly every bit of that initial meeting sounded awfully like a proposition...

Even if the elusive tailor _had _been propositioning him, to think he'd felt anything beyond attraction to Julian at that point would be ridiculous. They didn't know each other at all!

Yet, somewhere, along their nearly eight year long journey, Elim's feelings had changed. 

_ He loves me now. _

And... There was not a shadow of a doubt as to Julian’s own feelings now.

_ I love him too _ .

It felt different from before.

With the women he’d loved previously, there had been passion, physical attraction and a pleasure derived from their company. With Elim, however, he had the feeling… No… The knowledge that he was _seen_.

He was acknowledged and accepted, flaws, imperfections and all – cherished and valued for who he was as a whole person, as opposed to being admired for his intellect, his achievements, or his looks alone. 

Elim made him feel safe and wanted. He knew his company was craved by the Cardassian – craved and appreciated.

And when he thought about Elim, he would get inundated by images, memories and emotions; all swirling around him relentlessly.

Elim’s gentleness and seemingly inexhaustible supply of patience.

His beautiful blue eyes - the entrancing windows to his powerful and engaging soul, so expressive…

The way he would smile, so deviously, in a way that ignited Julian like a bonfire from some old pagan ritual…

Elim challenged him, on every conceivable level. He pushed his boundaries, frequently, but never a step too far – always measured and careful. 

His beloved… The mirror of his soul – reflecting everything that was both good and bad within him.

Elim made him want to be a better man.

A stronger man.

Someone who could face his fears and doubts bravely.

So…

What was he afraid of now?

_ I’m afraid he will reject me,  _ Julian admitted to himself.

_ I’m terrified he will hate me for not telling him about Ezri sooner. _

What if, in his obliviousness, and a general tendency to repress and hide from his more unsavory feelings, he’d doomed this budding relationship to fail?

It was an awful thought, one he could actually feel in the very real and physically painful sensation twisting in his gut.

He needed Elim.

He wanted…

_ A life with him… _

He stopped near the main doors into the Research Center and saw the landscape around him shifting.

Instantly, he was transported to that dreamscape – standing in a field of tall and vibrantly-colored grasses. Insects buzzed around him, while some animals skulked in the grass, hunting for food. And he was just there, present in the moment, enjoying the humid wind and the open, endless sky, painted with the most vivid yellows and reds. 

Cardassia was now a part of him.

Elim had sent him a seed with that letter.

A seed that could have gone ignored and scattered to the wind… unplanted.

Instead, it had taken root within him, like a tiny and determined little weed.

From that single speck of potential, he was now witnessing the growth.

And he realized, oh, he finally _saw_-

That plain… was _him_.

Under the Gardener’s caring touch, he had prospered.

Julian shuddered and breathed raggedly.

_ I have grown… _

And what a powerful thought that was!

When Elim arrived, which should be quite soon, Julian knew what he would do. There would be no accusations, no recrimination, no demands.

The former spy had been doing his best for his people.

And Elim’s cause was now his own.

_ I shall dream of a strong Cardassia… _

No.

_ I shall help  _ build_ a strong Cardassia._

And then he could see life all around him, birds taking flight, canids sprinting across the plain in an organized pack, the endless aquamarine of the Morfan Sea overflowing with fish…

This terraforming project he’d dreamt of… He would help organize it; lobby for it, fight for it with every last scrap of strength he possessed, because this world deserved it. 

The healing.

And the hope that accompanied it.

_ Elim _ _ … This all came from him.  _

It seemed to Julian that they were now inextricably linked.

And he wouldn’t allow their bond to break.

So, when Elim finally showed up, with a limping and disgruntled Dejar in tow, Julian jumped to assist. 

She looked at him disdainfully, but submitted to his help. 

Julian escorted them both to the infirmary first, where he focused on Pythas Lok’s taciturn caretaker. 

He didn’t ask her any questions about where or how she had sustained her injuries since he doubted she would reply - truthfully or otherwise. So, he simply used his tricorder to ascertain what was wrong – a burn on her left shoulder, a deep gash on her thigh, and a fractured ankle. Also a myriad of bruises.

He closed the gash first, then mended her ankle, and even though he knew she was in considerable pain, not once did she show it. He guessed the Obsidian Order operatives had to have high tolerance for pain. When it was time to treat her burn, she snatched a dermal regenerator from the table nearby and ran it over her wound.

He assumed she’d had enough of his presence, so he turned to Elim and said:

“Zeyem wants to see you in her office.”

For some reason, this made Dejar snort. The distaste was practically dripping from her.

“Dejar,” Elim said icily, “Don’t let your assumptions cloud your judgment. It wouldn’t be the first time today.”

This made her scales flush and her face flashed in anger. 

“This human is either ignorant, or presumptuous. There could hardly be a misunderstanding about that.”

Julian divined what this was about rather quickly and turned towards her, his posture straight and coolly polite. 

“Head Zeyem has given me leave to address her by her family name alone, if I wish. If you don’t believe me, you are welcome to bring this issue to her attention, though I doubt she will take kindly to having her precious time wasted by such frivolities.”

Dejar looked like he had just desecrated her family’s grave. 

Elim clapped him on the shoulder and smirked at him.

Julian recognized the proud little glint in the man’s eyes with ease. 

“Give Pythas my regards.” Elim inclined his chin minutely, never breaking eye-contact.

Dejar gave them both a look of utter contempt and left without a word. 

Once he was certain she was out of earshot, Julian mumbled:

“Don’t let the doors hit you on your way out…”

Elim chuckled.

“So scathing, my love…” The Cardassian all but crooned, and Julian was seized by a powerful desire to kiss those mocking lips. 

For a brief moment, their eyes connected, and Julian infused his gaze with the full potency of his want. 

In the next moment, he was all but crashing his lips against Elim’s, who responded eagerly to his impulsive move, placing a splayed palm against his lower back and drawing him in until they were flush against one another in a surprisingly perfect fit.

Elim felt solid, strong and immovable; whereas Julian molded around him like water lapping hungrily against the shore. 

Julian felt immense relief, as well as indescribable lust.

Lust for a deep connection.

One that never ended.

“Perhaps I should be away on dangerous missions more often?” Elim said wryly and Julian sighed in exasperation. 

“Elim… I have every faith in your impressive array of skills, but don’t ever leave me without information again, because how can I help you or save your stubborn Cardassian arse, if I don’t know where to find you?” He said sternly, knowing Elim could infer the rest. 

The tailor’s eyes softened at that and he spoke soothingly.

“You are right, my dear. It is a bad habit I seem to have picked up somewhere…”

At that, Julian looked at him with an are-you-bullshitting_-_me face.

Playing up the contriteness card, Elim said humbly:

“And I shall endeavor not to worry my poor Doctor. It seems to be terrible for both his health and his better judgment.”

The mischievous gleam in Elim’s vivid eyes was infuriatingly endearing. 

“Does this mean you will finally tell me what you’ve been up to since I saw you last?”

Elim inclined his head in acquiescence. 

“Let’s head to Zeyem’s office, my dear…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I see progress in Julian, I get so happy!
> 
> How about that kiss, eh? *fans self*


	72. Plans and Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak gives a brief summary of his and Dejar's operation.
> 
> Julian and Elim share a private moment.

Julian followed Elim to Zeyem's office. He was considerably calmer now when the man he loved was by his side and relatively unharmed. Still, he was incredibly curious to hear about Garak’s little adventure, so he swallowed his impatience and passed through the doors. 

“Sit down, Garak. And for the love of Akleen, allow your chosen to heal that cut or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

With a gracious incline of his head, Elim sat down on the chair opposite her console and Julian hastened to grab a dermal regenerator while the former spy was still in a charitable mood. It was also a convenient way to hide his sudden blush because he could tell what she meant by that little jab. He also wondered why everybody and their grandmother were commenting on the state of his relationship with the Cardassian. Did nobody have anything better to do? And also, was he truly that transparent? He assumed he must be. 

“Now, let me hear everything.” Zeyem commanded.

“Stay still, Elim.” Julian murmured and the man grunted in mock annoyance but submitted himself to his ministrations. Luckily the wound wasn’t too serious, but Julian still felt compelled to clean the blood away. It hurt to see any of Elim’s precious blood wasted. 

“Bashir,” Zeyem scolded, “Reserve any exchange of affections for the privacy of your home, if you please.”

“Yes, Head Zeyem.” He said abashedly and leaned against a turned off console, waiting for the explanation. 

Elim sighed and began.

“When word reached me of this disease, I decided to let some feelers out. One of my contacts came through and got the information on its origins and the formula for the vaccine. There was also information on the cure, but it was heavily encrypted and it took some time to crack. Now, that’s the good news. The bad news,” Elim said gravely, “Is that for some reason, a sample of this virus had been stored in a facility in the Munda’ar Sector.”

“Facility!” Zeyem snorted derisively. “Masquerading as some innocuous warehouse, no doubt… Go on.”

“Regardless of its… _former_ use, it had been stored among medical supplies. Whoever broke in to loot, likely got contaminated by the ruptured container. Whether it was damaged in the Fire or by somebody’s recklessness, matters little. We had to go there and neutralize the source of the disease. Let’s just say that the… current occupants were not thrilled about our little visit. Neither were they interested in our explanations. My… helper got trigger happy. She got disarmed and beaten for her efforts, leaving me to clean up her mess.”

“You dealt with the source of the outbreak, I trust?” Zeyem said almost dismissively, but her gaze was calculating.

“We have.” Elim said amiably, “We shall have no trouble on that front anymore.”

“At least something…” Zeyem grumbled. 

Julian’s thoughts raced.

“Elim… Please tell me you got vaccinated before going there?”

The man gave him a side-glance and grinned wryly. 

“I didn’t know you worried so much over my reproductive health, my dear.”

Julian flushed but sniped back.

“That information was still decrypting when you went in there! Unless I’m mistaken?”

Elim’s gaze was fond.

“You’ve grown more perceptive. I hope you’re as pleased by your progress as I am, my dear Doctor.”

Still, Julian wouldn’t be swayed by some sweet words, no matter the softness in those blue eyes, or the dazzling quality of that satisfied little smile. 

“All of us got vaccinated. Before checking whether we were infected to begin with, of course.”

Julian sighed in relief. 

“He isn’t infected.” Zeyem confirmed and stashed away a small hand-held scanner.

“Is my word not good enough?” Elim asked in feigned hurt.

“I am a woman of science, Garak. I like to check my facts.” She smiled predatorily. “Surely you understand?”

“Of course.” Garak smiled and lowered his gaze with an incline of his head which teetered on the edge between cheekiness and outright disrespect. 

Zeyem merely rolled her eyes. 

“That ridiculousness might pass for charm where a human is concerned, but I will not tolerate your nonsense, Garak. Away with you. Go and coordinate with Ghemor, while I notify the Heads of the other Hospital Centers to scan and vaccinate the entirety of their staff immediately. Oh, and Bashir stays right here. You can come fetch him once this information is more widespread. Also, consider a public vaccination in Paldar. I can provide the doses if you give me an approximate census on the population.”

“A fair idea I have considered myself. You will have the information by tomorrow morning.”

“In the meantime,” Zeyem moved on, “I will make certain all the other hospitals know exactly what to screen for. We must cut this thing off at the roots. Also, this information will have to reach the entire Union, in case an infected individual left Prime.”

“Already on it,” Garak said simply. “Ghemor will call an emergency session of the Sector Representatives, and hopefully they will see wisdom in acting immediately on the information.”

“If he plays his cards right, it will only fortify his position.” Zeyem said shrewdly.

“I think he just wants this to be resolved as soon as possible, though he would have to be a fool not to see the benefit in it. And Alon Ghemor is certainly no fool.”

“Very well, I have a lot of work to do, so you’ll excuse if I don’t indulge you any further.”

“May I escort him out?” Julian asked hopefully.

He must have looked truly pathetic, because Zeyem gave him an exasperated and pitying look, then waved him away. 

“I expect you back in ten metrics, Bashir.” She warned and he replied in the affirmative before nearly running out of the room after Elim. 

Julian tried to be discreet, but it only took him 18.3 seconds to cave in and stop Garak.

“Elim…” He said softly, searching for the man’s determined gaze. “I am so relieved you are well.”

His beloved’s eyes softened and he brought up both of his palms. Julian reciprocated the gesture gently and leaned his forehead against the Carsassian’s gray ridges. 

“I will miss you…” He admitted. It was so freeing to express it.

In lieu of a verbal reply, Elim entwined his fingers with Julian’s and he did the same in turn. 

They stood like that in the middle of the corridor for a long moment and Julian relaxed into the gesture. 

He loved this man.

The thought made him smile.

“I like cataloguing your expressions…” Elim said quietly, almost like he was revealing some sacred fact. “And I don’t believe I’ve seen that one often.”

“That one is only for you…” Julian murmured and felt his cheeks warming. 

“Then I shall guard it jealously.” Elim said in a deeper voice, dripping with a dark and thrilling promise. 

“I’m at work, Elim…” Julian protested feebly. “You shouldn’t be seducing me here…”

“Oh?” Garak smirked. “I thought inappropriate and semi-public settings were a staple of human romance?”

“Staple of the trashy holovid kind, perhaps!” Julian blurted out, “I’d appreciate if you didn’t make things harder for me than they have to be…”

Elim’s grin was maddening.

Then he eliminated the meager distance between them and held Julian closer.

His whisper was entirely too devious for Julian’s good.

“I’d say things are precisely as hard as they should be, wouldn’t you agree?”

Julian gasped and tried to extricate himself, but Elim went in for the kill.

Cool, smirking lips brushed against his neck, making him shudder.

“You were-ah-complaining about my behavior in public and-nnh-now you do this…”

Elim’s amused chuckle against his skin was electrifying. 

Had he ever had such a wicked and suggestive lover?

Surely not, for who could be more wicked than Elim Garak?

“I must keep my young lover entertained, lest he seek comfort elsewhere…”

Julian tried to scoff at that, but his mind was overloading again. Desire was coursing through his veins, potent and merciless, making him come alive under Elim’s touch. As if! 

As if he could want anything other than this… 

Other than more of this.

Always more.

_ _

“And now, I’m afraid I must leave, my dear.”

Julian looked at him petulantly.

“You’re cruel, Elim… When will I see you again?”

The tailor merely grinned at that.

“And your pouting face is ravishing, my love.” Then he turned more serious and muttered gently, “Soon. I promise.”

Julian looked at him searchingly. Elim was not the kind of man who made promises lightly. 

“All right…” Julian acquiesced, as he felt he had little choice. 

He would tell Elim all about Ezri once this plague was brought under firm control. 

His love life, no matter how anticipated, could wait. 

If Elim forgave his stupidity, that is.

The thought of losing this before it ever got off the ground was unbearable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julian is finally going to tell Elim about Ezri! Ooh!
> 
> Your thoughts are my oxygen! :)


	73. Choices

It took them several days to iron out the logistics for the most expedient and effective way to distribute the vaccines. Julian realized this was the reason why Zeyem wouldn't spare him. His analytic skills were a notch sharper than hers, simply because his augmented mind worked faster. He was under no illusion that he was a better physician or researcher than her. On matters of strictly Cardassian nature, she was nothing short of a savant. 

Utterly brilliant.

And a complete slave-driver when shit hits the fan, apparently. 

She hadn’t had a wink of sleep in three days straight, but she allowed her staff to sleep in shifts, though never longer than three hours at a time. 

Julian, however, didn’t use that privilege.

He did abuse a stimulant though.

Gelat was almost drinkable with enough sugar, just as he’d thought. 

At this point, it reminded him of Elim, which was a comforting thought because Julian was well aware the man was up to his eyeballs in reports, communiqués and matters of logistics. Him and Zeyem may be responsible for the planning and estimations, but it was up to Elim to actually coordinate their efforts. 

Just yesterday, they’d been contacted by Gul Ocett, who had offered her troops and ships to the effort, as two colonies reported a minor outbreak of this affliction and they desperately needed a way to get the shipment to them. Of course, they had sent the formulas over, but not every world had the infrastructure necessary to distribute it. 

Just as he had suspected, the Cardassians rallied in a common cause – Ghemor faced nearly no opposition for the emergency measures he had enacted. It seemed nobody wished to argue with a virus so dangerous.

Naturally, the information of its origins was never disclosed and Julian wondered whether that was so nobody would get any bright ideas about retaliating against the Breen for it. Elim had sent him a full report on it and such a reaction made sense. Especially considering that the disease hadn’t been released deliberately by the retreating Breen, which would be the logical conclusion the uninformed could arrive at. Adding fuel to the fire would be extremely foolish at this juncture.

The virus wasn’t such a recent affair; no, it had been commissioned on one of the Orion Syndicate worlds, over thirty years ago. The Obsidian Order had gotten wind of it through an undercover operative, and Tain had mobilized a small task force to eliminate both the ones who’d commissioned it and those who made it. 

Needless to say, the task was completed with ruthless efficiency and devastating swiftness. 

The facility which had produced it was no more, and any people who had even so much as breathed near the project had been assassinated. The operatives had managed to extract the data regarding the vaccine formula and the devised “cure”, but the original research was destroyed along with the facility.

A sample of the virus (the only sample surviving) was kept so the “cure” could be fixed. Clearly, anyone attempting this had been unsuccessful, since the data logged five separate attempts which yielded nothing. With current levels of medical technology, reversing this seemed quite improbable. In fifty years, or so… Who knows? Julian could dedicate his entire life to it and still fail. It was a terrible prospect. This meant that any individuals who survived would be stuck with sterility for long enough that an actual cure would make little difference. 

Julian was aware that they’d been incredibly lucky with this. 

If he hadn’t come to Cardassia… Would it have taken them longer to try the Order’s database? He assumed someone would have eventually gotten the idea, but after how many deaths? Julian shuddered to even think about it. 

From what he saw on the vidscreen, Gul Ocett appeared like an astute and competent individual. 

She also seemed to take no issue with Zeyem’s sharp attitude and clearly deferred to the elder researcher’s expertise on this matter. Julian could appreciate it, after all the unreasonable Guls they’d had the misfortune of running across during the years. 

Ocett had already immunized all of her troops and was currently planning to divide her fleet and instruct her trusted lieutenants with specific orders depending on the colony they were sent to. It seemed she wielded considerable influence. Julian wondered whether it had been Elim who’d reached out to her. 

How he missed the man. 

If he’d had any doubts before, this had cemented it for him.

Just a few days apart and he was filled with such longing for Elim’s presence that it would be almost embarrassing if he wasn’t past the point of caring about such trivialities. Whenever he got a few seconds of spare time, he would plunge into his memories and replay one of their sweeter moments together. 

That first embrace .

The breakfast at dawn.

Elim’s face bathed in ethereal light, so full of forgiveness and gentle acceptance. 

Every instance he’d heard the man speak without a translator.

Such a rich voice.

He’d gladly walk through a burning battlefield, just to hear it at the end of the day.

After his two months were over, and they were now in week five, he would have to find a way to get himself transferred to Cardassia somehow. Perhaps his insane terraforming plan could aid him with that. After this crisis was over, that would be his next priority. 

It was ironic, really.

He’d broken up with Palis over his career. 

And here he was, eight years later, almost willing to throw it all away if that meant he got to stay with Elim. 

He smiled bemusedly. It was so strange. Serving in Starfleet was his calling. He’d bound himself to its ideals wholeheartedly; yet, if push came to shove… He knew he would choose Elim over it.

If forced to choose…

He would choose Cardassia. 

Boy, would there be some spectacular fallout when he told the news to those closest to him…

Miles would go so red in the face, Julian bet. He’d sputter and get all wide-eyed; then he’d shout, with his accent thickening as he spoke, berating Julian at length about his choice of partner.

Was it weird that he was actually looking forward to it?

Plus… He needed Keiko’s input on this harebrained scheme of his. She was more than qualified to give valuable insight. For some reason, Julian suspected she’d take the news much better than Miles would. For all of the Irishman’s grumbling on her account, she was a very tolerant and open woman. 

Kira ...

He tried imagining her reaction and failed to, though he had a sneaking suspicion that Nerys might be more supportive than he gave her credit for. It was a good thing she respected Garak, whether the man knew it or not. 

Ezri …

Perhaps this would be a relief to her. Not having to see his face in Ops anymore.

Not being reminded of how abysmally he’s treated her. 

Julian felt a need to try and ease the blow he’d dealt. Perhaps an honest letter might be best, though he wasn’t sure. Perhaps more time to ponder it would be beneficial. He needed to make this right, at least insofar as it was possible. 

Jake would likely find it amusing and offer to write Garak’s autobiography, or something. A grossly exaggerated one, at that.

Quark, hah!

He wanted to go to the man’s bar, order _kanar_, drink it happily in front of the shocked Ferengi and tell him to invest in better stock. If Quark asked why he was drinking kanar, Julian would smile mysteriously and say he’s developed a taste for it.

Gods, he would kill for a taste of Elim right now. 

“Bashir… I don’t even have to ask where you are right now. Do try and contain yourself.”

Zeyem’s tone was chastising, but there was no real bite to the reprimand. 

“I know you miss your chosen, yet you don’t see Vonek and Telat so revoltingly open, do you?”

Julian couldn’t help the petulant quality to his voice as he grumbled:

“They get to work side by side and see one another every day…”

Zeyem chuckled.

“It’s not my fault your professions are incompatible, little Bashir. We could always use someone for pest control, though. What do you say?” She looked at him mischievously, daring him to retort. 

Naturally, he couldn’t resist.

“First you were accusing him of being a vole, and now you would have him exterminate his own kind? How ruthless of you, Moje.”

“Hah!” She exclaimed happily. “I should be grateful he’s trained his little lover to be so proficient a conversationalist!”

Julian invariably blushed at that.

“We’re not… We haven’t-” He stammered, then snapped his mouth shut. Defending himself was just digging his grave deeper, wasn’t it?

“Oh? Is he suffering from erectile dysfunction?” She said in mock concern, “Such are the pitfalls of choosing older men…”

Julian whined in mortification.

“Moje, please! How is this appropriate?!” He floundered gracelessly.

She merely snickered. 

“Out of shots already? Pity.”

Julian couldn’t help but think about the expression – shooting blanks. His mind could be such a cesspit sometimes. 

“There are remedies for that, Julian. Perhaps Garak deserves a little reward for ridding us of this plague, what do you think?”

Julian buried his face in his palms and squeezed out a harried,

“I’m not listening…”

Zeyem laughed, but dropped the subject, to his eternal relief. 

It’s not like he needed any more fodder for his errant mind.

What Elim provided was more than enough, thank you.

And if the tailor truly was thusly afflicted…

Julian would shoot himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cardassians are made for banter, I swear! They as people probably place great value on quick wit! 
> 
> Gotta love them...


	74. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian finally tells Elim about Ezri.

Night had fallen on Cardassia, bringing a much needed respite to Julian. Just because he could barely tolerate the heat didn’t mean he relished it. The nights were far more enjoyable, with the temperatures rarely rising over 30 degrees. He shuddered to think what a Cardassian summer would be like. If he ventured out during the day then, he’d be burned into a crisp. 

He’d left the Research Center to breathe in some fresh air and was currently pacing around in front of the entrance and gazing at the partially cloudy sky. He wished to calculate when the next Blind Moon would be out, so he could take a stroll through Tarlak with Elim. 

The simulation in the holosuite really didn’t do Cardassia justice. 

The real thing was always invariably better, wasn’t it?

Julian exhaled through a fond smile.

He’d always held great curiosity and passion towards the idea of love, but as with so many other social interactions, he’d been wildly off the mark. What he’d felt for the women in his life had been wonderful and bubbly, yet it would always simply… fizzle out. 

Perhaps Ezri had been right and it would happen with Elim too, but he didn’t think so. It didn’t _feel_ the same, so how could it be the same?

After all, there were so many reasons not to love the evasive and infuriating Cardassian.

Garak couldn’t be direct to save his life, unless bluntness suited his purposes, usually to torment you somehow. The former spy also had the bad habit of being so maddeningly vague, to better lead you around in circles, chasing your own tail in a conversation. Elim might not be outright lying anymore, but the truth was always expressed in some roundabout way. 

Yet…

A man so closed off, so used to keeping his own counsel and hiding behind endless layers of subterfuge, was showing him intricate veils of tenderness, as beautifully delicate as an Edosian orchid. The fact the flower was scarily deadly under the right circumstances only made the comparison more fitting. 

Julian’s heart was overflowing.

Astraea had told him to nurture his tendrils - a good advice he had followed.

Now, on this ruined, yet rebuilding world, he had a family.

He’d come to this world a broken man. 

Cardassia had healed him.

Now it was time to give back.

If only he wasn’t so worried…

His brow furrowed at the prospect.

_ I will tell him tonight. I cannot bear the thought of building a life with him on false pretenses and lies. _

_ We’d both had too many lies and we’re both tired of keeping painful secrets. _

_ _

It was time.

Elim’s latest report had been encouraging; the numbers of inoculated individuals were looking good. They had dealt with Munda’ar immediately, so that was a load off everyone’s mind. Likewise, the mass vaccination held at Paldar yesterday had been a success. Torr had been scheduled for today and Julian hoped everything had gone smoothly. 

All of the medical staff on Cardassia had received inoculations days ago. 

Reports were slowly trickling in from the afflicted colonies and from settlements across Cardassia.

Some populations would take a hit in the future, sadly. Still, things were far less bleak than they could have been and Julian was immensely grateful for that. 

“Thinking of me, I hope?” Elim murmured from somewhere nearby and Julian startled.

“Stop sneaking up on me, you sly devil!” He gasped, trying to get his breathing under control. “Is this really the best application of your little _regnar_ trick?”

Garak was mock pouting now.

“And here I was, hoping you had missed me. Perhaps absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder after all?”

Julian knew the man was jesting, but didn’t find the joke all that funny.

“Don’t say that. I was restless and miserable without you.”

His serious face and earnest tone softened Garak’s countenance and his teasing mask dissolved, leaving behind a softer and attentive Elim.

“I still cannot get used to your generosity of expression, my dear. Do forgive me.”

Julian sighed and embraced him.

Elim hummed happily against his ear.

“Can we go home now, please?” Julian muttered, smooshed against the man’s suit-covered neck ridges. 

“Yes, Julian…” Elim murmured against his skin, almost nuzzling against his stubbly jaw. “Such an interesting texture…”

Julian laughed softly.

“Most people find it too scratchy to be enjoyable.”

Elim made an almost purring sound.

“It is hardly my fault that most species have an absurdly sensitive epidermis.”

Julian snickered.

“And yet, you like touching soft alien skin. How deviant of you…”

“I must have been driven mad by my long exile. There’s no other explanation.” The man said haughtily.

“All jokes and lovely banter aside, Elim, I would like to discuss something with you when we get home.”

The man sighed and disentangled himself. 

“Of course.”

Julian feared what was to come, but steeled himself for it.

It had to be done. 

They were mostly quiet on their way home, but he kept sneaking loving and reassuring glances Elim’s way.

Perhaps the one he was trying to comfort was himself. 

In an hour or two… He could lose this gentle regard in Elim’s eyes.

The thought was unbearable.

Once they were safely behind closed doors, Julian sat on the cot and sighed. 

“This has been bothering you for awhile, I see.” Elim observed and settled next to him.

Julian drank in the sight of the man he loved and hoped his own sentiments were evident in his expression.

How to begin? What to say? 

He’d always been quite hopeless at expressing his feelings. It was a good thing his partner was such an observant person. 

He focused on the twin blue stars, drawing strength from them.

“Elim…” He said softly, allowing his anxiety to show fully. “I think… I should tell you exactly what happened that day you found me unresponsive.”

The man said nothing, but his expression seemed open and accepting. Julian took that as encouragement and proceeded. 

“I had called Ezri to tell her…” Biting his lip, he placed his shaking hands in his lap in an attempt to still them.

“I… I thought she deserved to know.” He verbalized weakly. 

“You told her about us.” Elim said simply.

“Yes… It’s was the only proper course. Are… are you mad I told her?”

Elim sighed.

“It is your prerogative, Julian. I cannot dictate who you choose to share information with. Though, judging by the state I found you in, I can tell she reacted poorly to the news.”

Julian exhaled in a nervous huff. 

“Poorly doesn’t begin to describe it. I wasn’t exactly expecting a ringing endorsement for my actions, but she…” He trembled at the memory. It was still so vivid and painful to recall. His voice was so small.

“She wounded you, found a critical weakness and struck there.”

“How… How do you know that?” Julian blurted.

A terrible thought occurred to him.

What if Elim had hacked the console and found the file? Found the entire transmission?

But the man only looked at him lovingly and reached out to caress his neck, placing his hand right below his jawline and brushing his cheek with a calloused thumb. 

“Nobody retreats so far into their mind over a careless remark. Whatever she’d said must have threatened the core of your beliefs or character so severely that your psyche felt it had no other recourse left to protect you.”

Yes.

That was exactly what happened.

How did Elim always know?

Yet-

-there was one thing he needed to know the most. 

This was it.

The moment that would decide their future.

It was terrifying.

“Before I came to Cardassia… I… I was dating her, Elim… Now, in retrospect, I realize your letter made me think about our relationship and…”

The memory assaulted him.

Back at the arboretum with Ezri…

Was that when it all began?

“Even when I was on a date with her… my eyes were drawn to a small red dot in the upper left corner of the viewport… I was with her, but all I could think about was-“

He breathed and placed a hand over his mouth.

He’d made love to her, thinking about her eyes being the wrong shade of blue and knowing exactly where Cardassian System lay beyond the dark gray walls of Deep Space Nine…

“Of course she dumped me…” Julian voiced his realization. “When she heard about the kiss… She was so angry…”

“_How long before you destroy him with your half-baked, cheap imitation of love?”_

The words rankled even now, making him shudder.

This was it. 

The moment when Elim could choose to act much like Ezri and blow up in his face, unleash the full fury and potency of his venomous tongue and Julian looked to Elim in anguish, deeply afraid he would be thrown away and evicted but Garak did nothing of the sort.

He didn’t frown, or clench his jaw, or even narrow his eyes.

Instead…

Elim just smirked.

“You can be terribly unsubtle about what you want, my dear. I’ve always found that to be one of your more charming traits.”

Julian was astonished. 

“The poor girl must have seen your feelings shifting for a long time… I also wouldn’t be surprised if she had noticed my lingering interest in you; after all, Jadzia Dax was a frighteningly perceptive individual.”

Julian nodded.

“Yes, Jadzia knew about it... That was just one of the things Ezri threw in my face.”

“I doubt the knowledge of my enduring affection for you was the thing to break your grasp on reality, beloved.”

That was such an Elim thing to do, to ask for an answer without actually bothering to ask. Julian regarded him warmly. 

“She was absolutely livid. Told me she hacked my console to access your letter and accused me of falling for your lies once again, saying you were just trying to lure me to Cardassia…”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Elim said smugly, but his eyes were full of undisguised sentiment.

Julian regarded him with exasperation.

“You didn’t lie in your letter. I know you didn’t.”

“That’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? You always responded more favorably to the truth… Pity I wasn’t able to share more of it at the time.”

Julian couldn’t believe his ears.

“Are you telling me you actually used your life story as bait to lure me here? Be honest, please.”

Elim’s face mellowed and Julian realized just how new that look was on the man. When Garak spoke, the words were immeasurably soft.

“No. You coming to Cardassia was a vague hope, at best. I simply believed you deserved the truth, as unglamorous and mystique-shattering as it was.”

“Elim…” Julian whispered, “Do you still believe I was friends with you because of your spy allure?”

His beloved shrugged.

“My past was a double-edged sword. It intrigued as much as it repelled. I hid the more unsavory parts and played up the intrigue to make it more palatable for you.”

Julian’s eyes watered and his face reflected the turmoil he felt. Elim had shaped his persona so Julian would accept him. It went both ways… 

It had always gone both ways, with them.

Julian gazed upon the man he had chosen and willed his voice to reflect the entirety of his overwhelming respect and love.

“You needn’t hide from me anymore, Elim. I love every part of you, even the ones you would rather forget. I choose to accept every ugly truth and every beautiful lie you have to offer…”

“Be still, my cold Cardassian heart.” Elim japed.

“I’m serious.” Julian murmured, even though he had a feeling Elim knew that. 

“And I am foolish and sentimental enough to hold you to your word, my love.”

Julian observed the man in silence and leaned in, intending to lean his forehead against those familiar ridges.

He was surprised when Elim cupped his face with both hands.

The look in his eyes was inscrutable.

Deep.

Julian bet if was deeper than the Morfan Sea.

“This old man you see before you, belongs to you now, Julian.” There was such meaning in every minute shift of his face. “Body, mind, and soul. Do what you will with him, but I would be grateful if you treated him kindly. He’s never had much of that before.”

Such powerful words – they stole his reason and his fear.

Julian trembled and embraced Elim.

_ Blood and bone. _ _ _

_ I promised him everything. _

And Julian intended to deliver.

“I will cherish you,” His voice quivered with emotion, but he pressed on. “This I promise - I swear. I may mess something up occasionally, but I will never hurt you on purpose… Is that…” He shivered and clung to his beloved, “Is that good enough?”

Warm breath gusted across his neck and he felt a warm kiss, pressed beneath his ear.

“My dear…” Elim whispered, clearly affected, “Of course it’s enough.” It was spoken so softly, through a filter of mild disbelief and a haze of acceptance.

Elim deserved so much better than he got.

The cards he’d been dealt couldn’t be changed but Elim had learned to play to his strengths.

More than anything, Julian wanted to be the man’s strength.

“You deserve it, Elim. I will be good to you, good _for _you.” Julian vowed.

“You already are, my dear…” Garak murmured, “You always have been.”

Julian didn’t know whether he believed that, but the thought was comforting nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh, look at that! Elim didn't bite his head off! 
> 
> Dying to hear your thoughts! :D


	75. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Garak take the next big step in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, so... This is where the smut happens. 
> 
> Garak likes to talk. ;>>
> 
> *scurries away*
> 
> Also, some terminology shamelessly borrowed from tinsnip, because I don't have a brain for speculating xenobiology.

Julian felt like a huge weight had been lifted. By telling Elim the truth, and not being eviscerated for it, he felt considerably more hopeful about their future prospects. 

He observed his reflection in the small bathroom mirror and pondered whether he should shave or not.

Previously, he’d preferred the clean-shaven look, simply because he felt it looked more professional, plus, any women he’d dated always complained about the stubble, so keeping his face smooth seemed like both the most convenient as well as the most considerate option. Now, however… Elim didn’t seem to mind, and Julian scrutinized his face, observing it impartially for the first time in a long while. Aesthetically, it didn’t look that bad. Perhaps letting it grow out might lead to something interesting. 

Cardassians didn’t really have any body hair, though. Sporting a beard might get him some strange looks, if he opted for it. Then again, his lack of ridges and general non-grayness would always set him apart anyhow. A beard was hardly going to make a difference. Still, no matter how curious he was about it, there was the heat to consider. 

Might as well shave it off.

He had plenty of time to decide later.

Once he was done, he washed his face. It wasn’t necessary, but it felt wonderfully refreshing.

His reflection seemed happy, radiant even. There was a different edge to his smile now. No longer as boyish, perhaps, but certainly kinder and wiser.

He felt different and guessed his looks reflected that. 

Julian grinned at the mirror, picked up his toiletries, and headed back to the shed.

And when his gaze landed on Elim, his smile only grew.

Here was the man he loved, hard at work once more.

“How important is that PADD, Elim?” Julian inquired slightly mischievously.

A wry smile appeared on the Cardassian’s focused face.

“It could wait… if the incentive was right.” Elim commented in an off-hand manner, but it was still the most suggestive thing Julian had ever heard. “Why, what did you have in mind, my dear?” 

Julian very nearly shuddered from that sentence alone.

“I was thinking we could open that bottle of kanar you supposedly had… After all, we have something to celebrate now, what with this crisis mostly averted…”

Elim chuckled lightly and placed his PADD down. 

“I quite enjoy your attempts at being circumspect, in no small part due to the fact you fail so abysmally.”

Julian flushed.

“Nevertheless,” Garak said generously, “It would be quite foolish of me not to acquiesce to your wish.”

_ Since I share the same desire. _

That was the subtext here and it was very apparent.

Or so Julian would like to believe. 

He observed his dearest friend pulling a spiral bottle from a box beneath his workbench and decided to fetch the glasses from the shelf above the little stove.

“What are the odds of this bottle being the same kind we had at Ghemor’s?” Julian inquired.

Elim smiled wickedly.

“Why don’t you give it a taste to find out?”

Oh, Julian had every intention of doing just that, but he refrained for now and waited patiently as Elim poured them a hearty dose each.

His heart melted a little.

There was no need to try the kanar. A man as careful as Elim would never pour so much if he wasn’t certain the other person would like it, especially not on Cardassia, where every resource was precious. He could never be so wasteful.

“Thank you, Elim.” He said meaningfully as he took his glass, infusing his gaze with a soft kind of gratitude. “I love it.”

The tailor merely raised his glass and Julian mimicked the gesture, reminding himself not to clink the glasses together, as that wasn’t the custom.

They sipped it without a word, looking one another in the eye.

It was the same kanar. 

Julian’s smile bloomed.

“Is it as good as you remember it, my dear?” Elim inquired with feigned nonchalance. “We don’t have any of Kelas’ delightful cooking to mask the taste here.”

“It’s every bit as good as I remember.” Julian said quietly. “And then some.”

More than anything, he wanted to move closer and taste the kanar from Elim’s lips.

“Patience has its rewards, beloved…” The man said with a quirk at the edges of his teasing mouth.

In Garak-ese that meant: Keep it in your pants for now.

Utterly mortifying.

Cheeks hopelessly flushed, he averted his gaze.

“Julian, don’t turn away.” Elim said softly. “It is the Cardassian way. Being contrary, arguing. It’s not meant to embarrass you.”

That was true. Julian even knew that, from Miles’ little encounter with Gilora Rejal. 

“We don’t have to… do things the Cardassian way.” Elim stated cautiously.

The reassurance was sweet, though unnecessary. 

“What if I would like to?” Julian admitted timidly.

“If it doesn’t feel right, I would suggest you don’t,” Elim said reasonably, “Just because I have endorsed my kind’s ways previously, at length, doesn’t mean it should be the universal approach to everything.”

Even now, Elim could leave him completely in awe.

Julian murmured, “You’ve been flirting with me shamelessly, haven’t you? All our literary debates…” 

The silence was warm and full of anticipation.

“All those wicked, enigmatic smiles…”

_ He’d been trying to lead me to this… _

“Elim…” Julian cradled his half-empty glass of kanar, “How long…”

The man’s eyes were glimmering in the twilight.

“How long have you wanted this?”

Elim seemed to be drinking him in, enjoying himself immensely.

“Ah, my beloved… the eternal truth seeker.”

This non-answer would have made his blood boil previously, but now it just filled him with fondness.

Julian knew this would be the perfect place to start an argument, one that would get them both properly riled up, but he realized Elim was right. He simply didn’t feel like arguing, not even for the express purpose of getting them in the mood.

So he took another swallow of his kanar and savored it shamelessly.

“I don’t really care about getting the truth from you anymore, Elim.” Julian confessed lovingly.

“Such a bold statement!” Elim said delightedly. “That saddens me, though. If you’re no longer interested in the truth, what am I to tantalize you with?”

“A bald-faced lie? A vague half-truth? Take your pick, love.” Julian said fondly.

Elim took a step towards him, looking intent.

His voice took on a deeper, more dangerous quality.

“It’s terribly unwise of you to allow your opponent such free rein of the conversational arena. I could tell you anything I pleased; manipulate you into doing exactly what I want…”

Julian was well aware of the risks that came with talking to such an accomplished liar.

Except he welcomed the risk.

Relished it, even.

Garak’s lies had always been thrilling.

“Oh, Elim…” Julian said warmly, though he allowed his voice to take on an arrogant, almost condescending quality as he smirked at the Cardassian in front of him. “We don’t always ask questions to find out the truth…”

Julian toyed with the silence.

Let it stretch.

Drew it out.

Honed it.

“Sometimes…” He whispered, “We just wish to be convinced.”

Elim’s smile turned absolutely predatory and in the very next moment, Julian found himself turned around and held firmly by the hip, with the man’s left hand gripping his hair, pulling his head backwards slightly.

“You’ve made your choice, my dear…” Elim whispered deliciously against his ear, “I hope you don’t regret it later…”

Yes.

_ Yes. _

He’d chosen the Cardassian way, hadn’t he? 

Julian could do little but moan and arch deeper into Garak’s grip.

It felt good, being held like this – Elim’s hands were so sure and achingly possessive… The little nips to his exposed neck were thoroughly maddening and he wished for more pressure.

“Elim,” He whined breathlessly, “Harder…”

He felt a dark chuckle against his neck, which made him shudder.

“You even respond like a Cardassian… How tempting you are, my dear…”

Julian whimpered as Elim bit down into his neck.

It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, and he knew the man was probably holding back not to injure him – a fact for which he was grateful, but-oh, this… It was exquisite torture, applied by an expert. 

Julian thought, in the back of his mind, that he should be embarrassed by the fact he would have hickeys tomorrow, like some desperate and fumbling teenager, but he didn’t care.

Elim made it thrilling by alternating kisses and caresses, and drew out his pleasure by dipping it in the most carefully dosed amount of pain. Julian realized he was being interrogated in the most intimate sense, for even now, all his responses were no doubt being catalogued, analyzed and stored for later use. 

It was an intoxicating thought, that this beginning was just the first step of many they would take together.

Strange tingles erupted all over the skin of his back and his thighs.

He’d never felt their like before and gasped as Elim licked the abused skin of his neck.

“I am curious whether all of you tastes equally delectable, my sweet…”

Julian gasped at that; the image that sentence evoked was positively incendiary.

“Should’ve-nh!” He strained in Elim’s firm grasp, “Known you were-ah-talker, Elim!”

Elim laughed and nipped his earlobe.

“What did you think I wanted when I approached you at the Replimat, Julian?”

An incredulous huff escaped him.

“Do you-fuck!-honestly expect me to be - stop that for a second, damn you – able to string a sentence along under these-unh-conditions?”

“I am enjoying your efforts, I assure you.” Elim said soothingly, but it only made Julian crave him more. It made no sense, but he tossed his reservations to the wind and moaned instead.

“You found me… attractive.” Julian stated, quite proud of the fact he hadn’t stuttered.

“Correct.” Elim conceded happily and his deft hands slid under Julian’s flimsy sleepwear to tease the sensitive skin of his stomach. 

Julian groaned. 

“You’re doing this on purpose, you fiend!” He accused the by now, no doubt, supremely smug Cardassian. 

There was sheer delight in Elim’s ringing laughter.

“My poor dear, reduced to stating the most obvious facts… Am I making things a trifle hard for you? Having difficulty thinking?”

Elim knew full well which head Julian was currently busy thinking with. 

“You love this, don’t you Elim?” He said audaciously, “Overloading all my senses, filling my mind with your presence, until everything else is erased and you are the only thing I can see, hear or feel…”

Garak practically crooned into his ear.

“I also love when you put that human directness to good use, as I couldn’t have phrased it better myself…” 

Julian wanted to curse him, but the feel of Elim’s coarse palms roving his torso was inconveniently distracting. His lover’s touch was as electrifying as it was thorough. 

“I thought you just wanted Federation secrets…” Julian managed to utter.

Elim snorted.

“My dear, I had access to your systems almost from the moment you connected them to Terok Nor’s… No… That’s not what I wanted, not at all.”

“Well… it’s not like you could have imagined we would end up here, couldn’t you?”

At that the hands stilled and fell away.

Julian felt their loss keenly.

He felt the Cardassian sigh behind his back and gently turn him around. One hand was still on his hip, but the other rose to hold his face.

“My dear Doctor…” Garak said softly, almost contritely, “I just wanted to bed you. That’s all I wanted. All I was able to envision then.”

Just a moment before, that admission would have had Julian begging for more.

Now, it made him want to hold Elim close and never let him out of his embrace. 

That was such a vulnerable statement.

A question was plaguing him, though.

“When… did it change… into more?” Julian asked tentatively, knowing he was asking an awful lot from the man before him.

Elim shrugged.

“I cannot be certain. Sometime after the incident with the wire.”

Julian stared into Elim’s eyes helplessly.

All these years…

Elim had kept this to himself.

“My fall was gradual and quite inescapable, I fear.” Garak said almost mournfully, though Julian could tell it was spoken with acceptance. 

There was no end to the wonders Elim was capable of.

“I’m glad you didn’t pursue me then,” Julian admitted, “As I wouldn’t have been able to appreciate it.”

Elim huffed and looked away.

Julian spoke with tenderness and conviction.

“Things would have fallen around our ears and we would never have had the opportunity to become the people we needed to be to make this work, and I, for one… Really want it to work.” He finished earnestly.

“I love you, Julian.” Elim said simply.

Every hair on his body rose in response. 

Overwhelmed and humbled, he placed his palms on Elim’s ridges, on both sides of his jaw. Holding him gently, he leaned his forehead against his beloved’s.

The truth came so easily now.

“I am yours, Elim.”

Completely.

Blood and bone.

Mind and soul.

“You can take what is yours… can’t you?” He whispered, half-afraid to be heard.

Elim’s eyes were bright blue stars. 

They burned with such promise it made Julian dizzy.

He trembled once more, as Elim’s hands wandered under his shirt again, pulling it off in a swift and fluid movement. Julian watched the man he loved and wondered what his eyes were revealing in that moment. His trembling hands slid to Elim’s chest and he caressed the seams of the perfectly tailored garment, seeking the unfastening.

The Cardassian’s breath hitched and Julian noticed his ridges darkening.

When was the last time Elim had allowed anyone to see him like this?

Bared in every sense?

A brief analysis revealed the location of an ingeniously concealed zipper, as well as a series of tiny clasps. He undid all of them with care and slid the tunic off of Elim’s broad shoulders.

To be perfectly honest, most men had broad shoulders when compared to his, Julian thought wryly. 

Next was the tailor’s stiff undershirt.

Julian’ mouth went dry at the sight.

Unable to help himself, ran his fingers reverently across Elim’s chest. 

“You’re so lovely…” He muttered and kissed the indentation beneath Elim’s clavicle.

Derogatorily, people called it a spoon.

To him, it was an inverted drop.

_ Chula. _ _ _

The scales were soft beneath his lips.

Elim shivered against him.

“Are you cold?” Julian asked in concern, but got only an incredulous look for his efforts.

Elim turned around and lowered the mattress onto the floor. Once that was done, he spread a blanket on top of it and gave Julian a clear come-hither look.

Not one to deny such an obvious invitation from Elim, he approached.

“Lie down, Julian.”

Three words and he was already undone.

What could he do but obey?

The night had fallen around them and only the pale and insubstantial light of the moons was drifting in through the window. 

It was more than enough to see by.

As always, Elim’s beauty was only enhanced where shadows were allowed to play.

“Close your eyes.”

The prospect was unappealing.

“I would rather watch you, Elim.”

“Indulge me this once, beloved.”

Reluctantly, Julian did as he was asked.

There was a soft rustle and Julian deduced Elim was likely undressing completely. He regretted his choice already. Why did he agree to close his eyes? He wanted to see Elim bathed in moonlight, every ridge and scale shadowed and more pronounced… That way, he could remember what his lover looked like when he was half-shadow, half-flesh. So much more interesting than human skin, with all those scales, intricate and compelling… Julian wished to map them all with his hands and his mouth, learn their contours and textures one by one and uncover their mystery little by little. Elim had so many scales… It would take him a lifetime to accomplish this task.

The idea thrilled him.

A surprised gasp escaped his lips at the feel of a calloused hand brushing along his clavicles.

“You are too beautiful by far, Julian…”

“Is handsome too pedestrian a word in Kardassi?” He inquired, genuinely curious despite his cheeky tone.

“When it comes to describing you, yes it is.” Elim stated with conviction. “It is reserved for chiseled faces, sharp ridges and harsh angles… How could that ever be applied to someone as deceptively soft as you?”

Julian wasn’t fooled. 

This was a compliment.

“You hide steel under the layers of velvet and silk…”

Bones.

Muscle.

Skin.

“That kind smile which lulls one into a false sense of security… A mask so convincing it fooled even a hardened operative…”

Hands, slipping lower, caressing their way across his ribs.

“Disguising a man who could rule the world if he so chose, yet…”

Fingers, toying with the elastic band of his cotton trousers – making his breath catch in his throat.

“He doesn’t choose to. A man who chooses to serve instead, like a proper Cardassian would – putting himself aside for the greater good of the State he serves. All because his compassion is so powerful it tempers his ambition…”

Julian’s breathing is ragged and his hands are fisting the bed covers.

“And his kindness quenches the raging fire of his intellect, never allowing his arrogance free rein.”

The coarse hands caress and they pull, divesting him with the full expertise of a well-practiced tailor.

“This wonderful human, who is a study in contradiction worthy of a Cardassian epic…”

He was writhing on the smooth blanket, craving the hands he couldn’t see.

“Who responds to every derisive remark with admirable flair and unrestrained passion…”

Julian’s bare legs were sliding down the smooth fabric as his heart was looking for purchase in the owner of the voice who was caressing his soul along with his body.

“The man with the most captivating smile he reserves only for the moments when he is challenged to his limits…”

Fingers trailing down his thighs, knees and shins, maddeningly slowly.

“And he sorely needs to be challenged, because he thrives on it – lives for it, and how could he not? Yet… nobody sees his real worth, or his full potential.”

Julian whimpers as deft hands lift one of his legs to explore the skin of his calves and his popliteal fossa. Nobody’s ever thought to touch the back of his knee, just as nobody’s ever explored his skin half as thoroughly. He really shouldn’t have expected anything less from a former spy.

“They mock his lack of social skills, as that is the only fault they can find with him, for he is exceptional in every other regard. It is a cruelty he is not deserving of, and one he never affords them, even when their flaws are far more glaring than his own…”

His legs are being spread and he trembles, slowly losing the battle with his aching arousal.

“Just another proof of his rare kindness… And the bluntness with which he speaks his truth, they take as tactlessness; the fools. As if it’s a sub-par quality to be open…”

A subtle sound he cannot place fills his ears and he realizes it’s a staggered breath mixed with something he’s never heard before. He tries to analyze it but realizes the parameters are insufficient.

“As if it isn’t a gift to be savored…”

Julian gasps as something slick and cool nudges against his entrance.

“They cannot appreciate how well he treats them, nor how desperately he vies for their attention…”

A careful finger circles his opening.

“They do not _see_ him.”

Julian’s breath hitches.

He is being invaded.

One word at a time, his heart cradled safely in the sea of adoration Elim’s voice is weaving around him.

“Like this, skin glistening in Cardassian moonlight like burnished bronze, sweet lips open in supplication and brow furrowed in torment…”

“Elim!” Julian moans, rolling his hips to meet his lover’s gentle exploration.

He can hear Elim’s breathing is becoming ragged.

“You’ve been testing my resolve for years, my dear…”

A second finger now, testing, teasing-

“And you haven’t made it easy, either… Perhaps I am what your kind would call a masochist? You see, I enjoy a good challenge just as much as you do.”

Slick and deliberate,

“All those years observing you, watching and learning…”

Stretching, ever so slowly,

“Filing away all your reactions…”

Filling,

“In the very unlikely case, that one day… Through some strange twist of fate, I manage to get you where I have you now…”

Mesmerizing-

“So that I would know exactly what you felt when I touched you.”

Julian moaned incoherently and whimpered his name, overwhelmed by desire.

He didn’t need to see Elim.

What use were the eyes, when you could feel somebody’s soul and the sheer force of their love?

“What do you want, Julian?” 

As if he needed to ask, as if he didn’t know, as if he couldn’t tell-

Julian needed him.

The desire was making him incoherent but he managed to blurt out plaintively, “I want … I need to be one with you, _please_-“

“You need not plead, beloved… I heard your wish.”

Elim’s voice was strained, almost like he was holding back. 

Julian gasped at the loss when Elim’s fingers withdrew, and waited, heart thundering, blood singing, skin burning until-

A harsh grunt accompanied the sensation.

Slick and firm.

Within him.

Elim’s voice seemed strangled somewhat.

“Relax, Julian… I know you can. Use the superior control I know you have over your body.”

This only made him groan and thrust against the weight hovering above him.

The burn was insubstantial.

Irrelevant.

Elim started moving then, rocking his hips side to side, almost as if he was trying to burrow deeper.

Julian cursed and writhed underneath him. 

“Beloved, this is the one instance where I would appreciate your human bluntness – am I hurting you?”

“No, Elim – damn it! It feels so good I am losing my damn mind, now _please_ move!”

With that his hands sought out Elim’s neck ridges and found purchase there. He gripped and caressed mindlessly, which made Garak hiss in pleasure.

Slowly, Elim found a rhythm, adjusting it every so often to the increasingly incoherent and non-verbal commands Julian was issuing. 

The feel of slickened ridges at the base of Elim’s prUt was driving him insane.

The texture…

He felt almost mindless.

“Open your eyes, Julian.”

His eyes flew open at the command and he was struck by the vision he saw. 

Molten silver skin, burning blue eyes and a face so consumed by desire he came without ever being touched.

He shuddered helplessly, consumed by the sensations and the sights.

Elim’s ornate body above him, arms nearly trembling in effort, eyes both bright and clouded at once. Julian drank in the enthralling sight avidly, greedily. Why did his lover seem like he was-

“Don’t hold back, Elim… Not for me…” Julian entreated through a gasp.

With a near growl, Julian watched his lover’s tenuous grasp on his self-control snap, and then so did his hips, sharply. He cried out in blinding pleasure and met Elim thrust for thrust, moaning his appreciation with a string of poorly verbalized yesses. 

His palms were sweaty and the grip on Elim’s ridges was slipping, so he let his fingers slide against the back of the man’s scaled cowl.

Julian sought Elim’s mouth and captured it in a searing kiss, savoring the man’s moans like they were the rarest delicacy.

He could still distinguish the particular flavor of kanar on Elim’s tongue, heady and sweet.

It tasted like lust, 

Yet hit like love.

Elim groaned and broke the kiss, letting his head fall into the crook of Julian’s neck, kissing him there; nipping, licking and Julian twined his fingers into those sleek black tresses and held him there. 

_ Mirror of my soul… _

He wished to say it.

His memory was perfect.

He could say it with decent accuracy if he focused.

He wanted to.

His trembling lips parted.

“_Elim__… Mirror of my soul…” _He spoke in his inadequate Kardassi, making about the closest approximation his human throat could handle and felt the words provoke a vividly visceral reaction in the man.

Garak keened and strained in his arms, burying himself deep and shuddering as a powerful orgasm overtook him. 

Julian gasped at the sensation and reflexively clenched, which drew a nearly plaintive moan from Elim.

The man was trembling above him, muscles straining and quivering, yet his head was buried in Julian’s neck, and his expression wasn’t visible.

It took Julian several moments to realize the man’s shaking wasn’t due to muscle fatigue.

The rapid, shallow breaths, the muffled noises…

He…

The man he loved…

Elim was crying.

Julian’s first urge was to ask whether his Kardassi was so terrible it made people weep, but then thought better of it.

He carded his fingers through Elim’s slickened hair and allowed the tenderness in the movements to speak for him. There was no need to bring attention to the man’s tears. 

His heart was full to bursting.

Through Elim’s words and actions.

Perhaps the inverse was true as well?

Julian kissed the man’s forehead lovingly, running his fingers gently across his back in an effort to soothe.

This was such a sweet surrender…

He would guide Elim though it as gently as the man had guided him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this... Comments are always welcome to appease the author's crippling anxiety. >.<


	76. A Lesson in Interspecies Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian shows up at work covered in love bites.
> 
> Hilarity ensues.

In the morning, Julian went to work with the stupidest grin on his face. He knew he was probably being absolutely revoltingly transparent by Cardassian standards, but he didn’t care. Last he checked, happiness wasn’t against the law.

At least he hoped it wasn’t.

“Good morning!” He greeted the colleagues assembled in Zeyem’s office. That was where the shifts began, with a debriefing. 

Akot’s eyes widened as she rushed to his side.

“Julian!” She cried in distress, “You’re injured!”

He looked at her bemusedly, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

Gaddik took one look at him and burst into a hilariously shrieking fit of laughter.

Trengem covered his eyes and muttered something about Cardassia going to shit.

Slightly alarmed, Julian looked to Zeyem.

“You silly girl…” The clearly amused Head of Research murmured softly. “Can’t you see he’s been mauled by an animal?”

Suddenly self-conscious, Julian covered the right side of his neck with his palm.

“What kind of animal leaves marks like that?!” Akot exclaimed with innocent worry.

Of course, Julian figured. Such ministrations didn’t leave a lasting trace on Cardassian neck ridges, since they were significantly sturdier than human skin.

Telat was screaming with laughter, to Vonek’s irritated grumbling.

“It’s a near extinct species.” Zeyem said with professional detachment, almost like she was describing a real medical curiosity.

“Surely it can’t be the gettle, we’re in the middle of the City!” Akot said, grabbing for a scanner.

“Oh, no…” Zeyem kept toying with Akot, “It’s a much fiercer predator who only goes after the most vulnerable prey…”

Julian flushed at that assessment. He wasn’t such a pushover, surely! He may look flimsy, but his augmentations made him quite strong and more than a match for an average Cardassian. Even an above average one, probably.

Still, he was unable to stop Akot’s fussing as she scanned him. Julian knew full well what she was likely to find - trace amounts of Cardassian saliva. 

He really should have ran the dermal regenerator over his neck this morning.

The older nurse was currently clutching the edge of a console and nearly weeping in mirth.

Zeyem was grinning madly in her seat, clearly waiting for her trainee to arrive at the correct conclusion. Julian wanted to spare his Cardassian sister the embarrassment, but didn’t know how to do so without being mortified himself.

“For the love of Akleen, Akot! It was Garak, all right? Do we need to spell it out for you?” Vonek said exasperatedly, unable to bear her fumbling any longer.

The poor thing stopped dead in her tracks, eyes blown wide. For all intents and purposes, she’d been petrified, standing there like a perfect statue.

Zeyem snickered.

“Oh dear. Vonek, you broke the girl.”

Julian gave an incredulous little chuckle at that. 

Telat was still all but wailing in the background, wheezing and high-pitched.

“Akot…” Julian spoke gently and placed a tentative hand over her left forearm. “I’m not injured, it’s fine, truly.”

Gaddik sniffled and wiped his teary eyes, still trying to catch his breath. The corners of his eyes were crinkled with joy. He approached the young researcher and took the scanner out of her unresponsive hands. 

“Akot, consider this a lesson in interspecies intimacy.”

The words were affectionate, but they made Julian flush regardless.

He really hadn’t thought things through, had he?

No wonder Garak had looked at him deviously when they parted not half an hour ago. Blast that man! Too proud of his handiwork to spare everyone the embarrassment it would cause!

“Are you quite finished?” Zeyem said in a bored tone. “Not you, Bashir. We all know exactly how well-done you are.”

“Moje, please!” Julian cried out. This had gotten seriously out of hand. But then he thought of a witty retort and simply couldn’t help himself. “Not in front of the child!”

Zeyem gave an amused huff at that and Vonek groaned. Akot looked even more mortified, if that was even humanly (Cardassianly?) possible and Telat burst into another round of helpless laughter.

“The youngest always bear the brunt of their elders’ amusement. Such is the way of things, little Bashir. Now, if you all wouldn’t mind, we have better things to do.”

Each got a PADD and the debriefing finally began.

***

During his break, Gaddik approached him.

“Thank you for this morning, Bashir. I haven’t had that good a laugh in ages.”

Julian huffed bemusedly.

“I would say I aim to please but I know anything I say can and will be used against me.”

The nurse smiled warmly and extended his palm.

Julian pressed his hand against the man’s larger one and kept it there for two seconds, which seemed to please the older Cardassian.

“You’re adapting admirably well, Bashir. I am quite impressed by your progress.”

“Hah!” Julian snorted, flicking his hand dismissively. “I still don’t know almost anything about your customs. Garak is as tight-lipped as a petrified clam on the subject!”

This drew another laugh from the nurse.

“Most Cardassians are. We are used to everyone around us being clued in. When someone sticks out with a gesture that is out of place, it is very noticeable.”

“Please don’t remind me of your class system, we will get into a disagreement, and now I know how that could be misinterpreted.”

Gaddik looked at him indulgently.

“Friends can argue as well, so long as they don’t breach their personal space.”

“Oh?” Julian asked, deeply intrigued. “Does that mean the difference between a row and flirting is in the distance between individuals?”

Telat laughed good naturedly.

“Usually. Though, some men can engage in displays of aggression while fighting for some perceived dominance. To some, even that can look… vaguely flirty, shall we say. Usually, though, it is not.”

Julian flushed. Garak had been getting deeper into his personal space lately… A fact he actually welcomed now.

“And I believe neither of us has any need for posturing, or inclination towards aggressive behavior, therefore, there’s no reason for our interactions to be anything other than perfectly innocuous.” Gaddik said sedately.

Julian breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry, Gaddik,” He fumbled with words, “I’ve never been good with social interaction, not even with my own kind.”

The man’s eye ridges rose in faint surprise.

“Truly? You seem to be doing well here.”

Julian grinned wryly.

“The irony is not lost on me, believe me.”

“Perhaps this is where you belong, then.” Gaddik said sagely, making Julian marvel at the sheer calm the man exuded. It was the complete opposite to his own nervous energy.

Well, not so nervous anymore. He was excited, giddy even, but no longer anxious.

The trepidation and the fear were just kind of… _gone_.

It felt both strange and liberating.

Julian grinned widely.

“I do belong here. Cardassia feels like home to me now.” He said sincerely, meaning every word.

“You are leaving in three weeks, or so, though.” Gaddik observed.

This was true.

“I am…” Julian said wistfully, “But I will do my very best to come back as soon as possible. I will lobby for a position on Cardassia Prime as a researcher or something. Anything, to be honest.”

“What if they deny your request?”

Julian couldn’t deny there was a high chance for that as well.

“In case they do…” He sighed. The answer really didn’t hurt as much as he expected it to. 

“I will resign my commission.”

Gaddik’s eyes went wide.

“You would leave Starfleet for Cardassia?”

Julian smiled softly.

“If I was forced to choose, yes. I would choose Cardassia. I would choose Garak.”

For a long moment, the other man didn’t speak.

“Hah!” Telat exclaimed once he gathered his wits. “I can rub Vonek’s ridges in that, the judgmental fool! He thought you would leave Cardassia and go merrily on your way, leaving your chosen despondent.”

“He’s not my biggest fan, is he?” Julian shrugged.

“Oh, it has nothing to do with you personally, Bashir. He is simply very opinionated and hates admitting when he’s wrong. Vonek is a very proud individual.”

Julian laughed airily at that.

“It would seem we both have a fondness for stubborn men.” He said warmly.

Telat winked at him, well, a Cardassian equivalent for one, and said playfully:

“More than a fondness, I’d wager.”

Julian rolled his eyes.

He was actually curious about something but didn’t want to appear presumptuous.

“Gaddik, uh… I have a question, but it’s personal and I don’t know whether I am allowed to pose it, since we haven’t really been friends for long…”

The nurse’s facial expression was undisturbed and serene.

“It’s not a matter of length of one’s relationship, Bashir, but a matter of trust.”

Julian’s face fell.

Telat chuckled.

“You misunderstand my meaning. Feel free to ask and I shall answer to the best of my ability.”

Julian was unable to hide his surprise. 

“Well, if you’re sure, then… How long have you and Trengem been an item?”

Gaddik blinked in apparent confusion.

Julian rephrased his question.

“Uh, how long you’ve been a couple, I mean.”

“Ah.” Telat chuckled and a teasing little glint appeared in his laughing eyes. “Need tips on pleasing your mate?”

“No!” Julian cried out, mortified, “I, uh… no. He hasn’t complained… yet, at least…” 

Would Garak complain? 

Julian hoped he would.

The last thing they needed was miscommunication in bed.

Or any other kind of miscommunication, to be honest.

Things were going so well and he would loathe to spoil it.

“I am teasing you, Bashir. It’s a bad habit I seem to have picked up from Moje. She’s far too delightfully sarcastic at times.”

Julian sighed theatrically.

“I am used to it. Most Cardassians I know treat me the same way.”

“You are aware, I hope, that this means they like you?” Telat said in an amused voice. 

“Yes… I assumed as much.” Julian murmured.

“We should head back to the lab, Bashir. I will tell you there. Lucky for you, Vonek is on inventory duty today.”

“Why? Would he be opposed to you telling me this?”

Telat laughed.

“No, we would just have a running commentary comprised solely of grumbling.”

Julian snickered.

“That really does sound like him.”

Gaddik got a faraway look of adoration.

Julian recognized it.

He’d seen its like in the mirror last night.

With a private smile, he followed the nurse back to the lab. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like this one? :D
> 
> Prepare tissues for next one! Telat and Vonek's story is really sad...


	77. A Bittersweet Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Telat Gaddik shares his life story with Julian.
> 
> It resonates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece I composed goes wonderfully with chapter 44 and this one.
> 
> [Not Allowed to Touch](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190828815081/under-the-blind-moon-ost-this-song-goes)

Once they were situated in the lab, Julian brought up some reports to go over. Just because he wished to speak with Telat didn't mean he couldn't get some work done. He knew the other man was good at multitasking and would likely be doing the same. It wouldn't do at all for Zeyem to suddenly drop by and see them doing nothing.

Julian may occasionally be foolish, but he wasn't suicidal. 

The nurse was standing at a console and looked busy.

“I don’t know enough about human culture to compare, so I shall start from the beginning.” Gaddik said without preamble. 

Julian listened with bated breath.

“Ever since I was a little boy, I could tell my preferences ran counter to the majority of my peers. When everyone avoided female company, I enjoyed it. By the time other boys started getting interested in the softer ridges and lilting voices of girls, my gaze was reserved for solidifying ridges of the male form, and ear attuned to the harsher, deeper voices they possessed.”

Julian marveled at the uncomplicated honesty with which his new friend was sharing his past. 

“I don’t know about the habits of your species, but on Cardassia, certain youthful experimentation is to be expected. Still, by the age of emergence, every Cardassian knows his duty will likely be to continue their family line. The most promising children are often arranged with a union of the parents’ choosing. That wasn’t the case for me, mercifully. Despite my stance on this, you have to understand, Bashir, that many arranged enjoinings are harmonious.”

Julian was aware of a similar practice back on Earth. It had fallen mostly by the wayside, but it still happened occasionally, though no longer on an involuntary basis. 

“Which implies that some aren’t.” Julian remarked.

Telat sighed deeply.

“Vonek’s certainly wasn’t…” The man admitted. Then, a warmth mingled with heartbreak flitted across his face.

“Mine, however… was.” 

Even across the room, Julian could see Gaddik’s eyes misting over.

“I never planned on getting married. I had managed to stall for time with my studies, which my parents endorsed, so I wasn’t questioned overly much on the topic.”

Julian wondered why a man who professed he’d never had any inclination towards the female gender would get married.

“I had a friend. My best friend.” Telat’s voice turned melancholy. “She was lovely. Gorgeous blue-ish sheen to her hair, warm brown eyes and a shy little smile that could melt even the coldest heart. All except mine,” He laughed bitterly. “Still, I loved her more than I had ever loved anyone.”

Julian knew this story didn’t have a happy ending. 

“That’s why I didn’t even think twice when she ran to me in tears, weeping over a news report. The man she loved, a soldier low in the ranks, got killed in a terrorist attack on Bajor. He’d been trying to procure the funds for betrothal gifts. Pregnant and desperate, she clung to me for dear life. I offered for her hand, assembled the twinned gifts, as simple as could be, all within a day. We enjoined to spare her the shame, and I felt grateful my inclination, such as it was, made it easy for me to take care of her.”

“That was… kind of you.” Julian said, knowing full well it was more than kind. It was selfless.

“She did me a favor, Bashir. Satisfied both her parents and mine in one go, and brought me a precious gift.”

Julian could see how hard this was to recount for the Cardassian, even though the man’s face had a warm smile.

“Elora was the most beautiful little girl you could imagine. Naturally, she looked nothing like me,” Telat laughed, “But she didn’t have to. She bore the uncanny resemblance to her mother, which everyone commented on, and I was so proud I got the chance to raise her.”

Julian could tell the man loved that child with all his heart.

“We had nine happy years together. I helped my dearest friend pick up the pieces of her shattered dreams, and we reared our daughter together, which unified us in a joy we hadn’t expected. We shared a bed for warmth and comfort, even though I couldn’t give her the kind of love she may have wished for. Still, I gave what I could. We were… happy.”

Telat’s breathing was affected. 

“I had a passably lovely life.”

Julian was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Vonek started working at the Research Center around that time. He was… striking. Professional to a fault, quick to anger, yet quick to cool as well. He could speak his mind harshly, but you could always read in his eyes an apology he dared not utter. Needless to say, I didn’t touch him. We were both married men. He enjoyed my company and I his, but we both knew there was a tangible line we weren’t allowed to cross. For the sake of our spouses and their reputation, if nothing else. It was an unspoken agreement.”

Julian could understand the logic.

“Vonek complained about his wife to me often, over a glass of kanar. She was a cold creature, full of hate and scorn. While my wife was warm; a trusted companion and friend, his was an implacable enemy. Theirs had been an arranged marriage they’d been unable to refuse. He had tried to mollify her, tried to please, to no avail. She wouldn’t reveal why she was so viciously unkind to him, and kept the same treatment for years. Vonek never knew what he would be greeted by upon his return home. Sometimes insults… Sometimes worse. He bore it all stoically, as best he could. Nobody but me knew how many cuts, bruises and broken bones his immaculate attire concealed. My heart broke for him, even as I knew I could do nothing but heal his injuries and keep his secrets.”

“That’s… terrible.” Julian stated inadequately.

“Marital abuse is not discussed. He had begged her for separation, at length, but she refused him every time. We still don’t know why she persisted in such folly. Perhaps she enjoyed someone she could sink all her anger into without repercussions…”

Vonek’s pain clearly affected Telat deeply.

Julian couldn’t even begin to imagine how terrible it would feel if he were stuck in the same situation.

“We’d been dancing around one another for about three years when something happened that finally destroyed my resolve.” Telat shuddered and drew a calming breath. “My precious daughter… My Elora…” A tear slid down his pale cheek.

Followed by another.

“She went out to play with her friends one day… My little girl, whose kind heart I adored… It simply burst in her chest.”

A brief keen escaped him.

“Congenital heart defect. A tiny flaw her check-ups missed. A cruel irony, to be sure. Perhaps a punishment for tricking Fate out of an orphan and a disgraced woman…”

Julian refused to believe in a Fate so cruel.

“Death was near-instantaneous. By the time she was rushed to an emergency ward, it was far too late. I was crushed. My wife was devastated. In a moment, we both lost everything. Our future, our bond, and our only saving grace. My reason for living, lying lifeless on a cold bed… Teja fell apart. Sure, I had lost a daughter, but she had lost her last connection to the man she had loved, to her dreams of a future that died on Bajor…”

Julian had never given thought to the Cardassian men who lost their lives in the Occupation. The numbers had always felt… insignificant in comparison. 

Well, they were not. They mattered to someone.

“The woman I managed to put together once… Pulled back from me. Shunned my comfort. Refused my words and my touch. Retreated into her mind, spent hours caressing our daughter’s clothing, brushing out a lock of her hair she had kept… I no longer had access to her little world. I was mourning; same as she, but her way of coping was only compounding my loss. I was forced to take care of her, but she refused food, refused to bathe, refused any overture on my part to provide support or assistance. I was losing her too and I couldn’t bear it.”

Julian felt a lump in his throat.

“Vonek would take me out drinking. Discreet places where nobody looked too closely. Even inebriated, my pain did not lessen. I would look at him, stern and strong and mourn for him too. For his cold marriage. For my inability to take comfort from him in the way my body was screaming for. My deprivation was absolute.”

Julian bit his lower lip and covered his mouth with his hand.

“I had no other close friends, Bashir. Teja, Elora and Vonek were all I had. All I cared about. All I loved in this world.”

Julian’s tears fell.

“And now I had nothing. My sweet Elora, cold in the sand. My best friend, distant and lost – irretrievable. And the man I loved… Whom I couldn’t touch, for I knew my weakness would overtake me the moment I did. So I refrained.”

It resonated. Being so lost and in pain, yet unable to reach out for the only thing that soothes… 

“Vonek tried to reason with me. Told me I should get Teja help, but I couldn’t bear to take her away from the only place she could feel our daughter’s presence. It felt needlessly cruel.”

Julian could empathize.

“I was tearing at the seams. Teja didn’t see, nor care; absorbed in playing with our daughter’s toys, almost like our girl was still there. I would leave her to it and go to work, tired and miserable. And one day… Vonek couldn’t take it anymore. Pulled me aside in the men’s restroom, barricaded the door and held me where nobody could see. It only made me love him more and I almost hated him for it. When he placed his hands on my ridges, I had no strength left to resist him. I gave in. For a few fumbling moments, I felt alive.”

Julian could feel each emotion the nurse was describing, as vividly as if they had happened to him.

“The moment we separated, I told him coldly never to take such liberties with me again. It rent his heart, I could tell. My wavering resolve couldn’t allow the situation between us to escalate. We were both enjoined. No matter how empty those bonds actually were.”

It was heartbreaking.

“He would stay away for a few months, but I could never do without his company completely. I depended on him too much, and he on me. We would go out for a glass of kanar, then come together in some darkened alley for a few stolen touches neither of us could be satisfied with. I would always leave first. Sometimes he would pull me back in, other times he would let me go.”

Telat’s tears had dried.

“One night, after a long day at work, I came home to a dark apartment. This worried me instantly. I turned on the light. Teja was sleeping on the bed, clutching one of Elora’s old dresses. Visually… Everything looked normal.”

A horrible feeling overcame Julian.

“But I knew it wasn’t. There was a mug on the table. She didn’t really eat or drink anymore. Not unless I prepared it for her. And this, I hadn’t. I ran to her side, dropped to my knees, tried to shake her awake, took her pulse… Her thin body was cold and stiff. She’d been dead… for hours. Poisoned herself with something she’d replicated. Likely did it immediately after I’d left for work, so I couldn’t have a chance to save her.”

Words failed Julian. This was a depth of grief he had never touched upon. 

How glad he was of it.

“I buried her next to our Elora. It’s what she had wanted. After two years of agony… I was empty. Our apartment was a personal hell I couldn’t wade through. Everywhere I looked, the best memories of my life mixed with the worst. My daughter’s first steps… And my wife’s last.”

Julian wiped his eyes.

“I was dead too. I functioned at work, only barely. Vonek covered for me. Zeyem reprimanded me, but didn’t fire me. She could have. Several times. This is why I am in her debt.”

Perhaps Zeyem had known the Research Center was the last stable thing in Telat’s life and couldn’t bring herself to take that from him too. 

“One such day, Vonek followed me home. Too tired to fight, I let him in. He took one look at the messy apartment, everything the way my wife left it, months ago, filth and dust everywhere, and started tidying without a word. Impotently, I watched him scrub my old life away. I was crying when he stored my wife’s belongings in boxes. I trembled as he did the same with Elora’s. Then he walked over to the replicator and dissolved item after item. And I let him. One by one, they vanished. I didn’t stop him, no matter what he put in there. Dresses, toys, brushes, mementos. They all got reclaimed. When he got to the last item, I stayed his hand. It was a framed picture of my wife, daughter, and I. The only picture where we were together and happy. It was the only thing I couldn’t let go of, and he must have known that, or he wouldn’t have left it for last. I set it on the table, slowly, almost like I was giving them a place they had lost. And when I turned around, Vonek was there.”

Whatever Julian’s opinion on the man had been previously, hearing this made Trengem rise in his estimation immeasurably.

“I don’t know who moved first, but the end result was the same. He’d reclaimed my past, and I allowed him to reclaim the rest of me too.”

Julian was wiping his face, absorbed fully in the tale.

“I left that apartment behind and leased a new one. Second floor, a tiny unit. Plenty for a widower. Enough to accommodate his occasional lover. He’d saved me, Bashir. Now, I offered him shelter from the wrath and contempt of his unreasonable wife. It was a joy I had never known. Unexpected and fulfilling. Still, our relationship had to be hidden. Vonek was still enjoined. We both knew his wife was unlikely to file for separation, so this was the best we could have. At least we no longer had to steal glances or touches under the cover of darkness. Hidden away in my four walls, we were free.”

All Julian felt was relief. Whatever had happened in the past, the pair seemed happy now. He was so glad for them that the depth of the sentiment took him by surprise.

“This continued for about nine years… Until the Fire. My building was razed to the ground. His implacable wife… Just left. In her wake, an unexpected gift – signed papers for separation. Vonek wept when he’d found them. Cardassia had lost everything, and only then was he granted his freedom. A long nightmare had ended, but our very existence was now a nightmare. The streets were an unimaginable hellscape. Vonek’s building was unsafe, so we picked the apartment clean of all valuables and showed up on Zeyem’s doorstep. She didn’t even blink. Assigned a room to us. Didn’t even ask. Likely had no need to. She’s a perceptive woman.”

“You survived.” Julian said softly. “You came out of this stronger.”

Telat smiled wistfully.

“Yes, we have.”

“I… Telat… Thank you.”

For the story.

The honesty.

And for baring his soul to a silly human’s unthinking curiosity.

“No one has ever asked, Bashir.” Gaddik said gently. 

Julian huffed in self-recrimination.

“That’s because no Cardassian is tactless enough to.”

“Perhaps not,” The man conceded, “But I am still glad you asked. It feels good telling someone.”

“Any time.” Julian said earnestly.

“Thank you, Julian.” Telat said warmly. “You are a good listener.”

Julian gave a brief and incredulous gesture of acknowledgment and marveled at the fact someone would consider him so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, read it again before posting and cried. 
> 
> How have you fared?


	78. Irreplaceable Existence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian mulls over his conversation and heads home.
> 
> He embarrasses himself in front of their guests.
> 
> He commits to the idea of adoption.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is mostly sweetness, but if you like Parmak, you might feel a bit sorry for him...

The talk he'd had with Telat Gaddik had put things into perspective for Julian. Zeyem had been right when she’d said the man had a story too sad to tell. It almost made Julian feel like an utter ingrate in comparison. Yet, there were parallels too eerie not to acknowledge. A common thread of self-denial and self-deprivation.

Julian had been doing a lot of that until he’d realized what he wanted.

Until he figured out he loved Elim.

He never wanted to experience it again, so when his work was done for the day, he hurried home.

When he saw his beloved again, he would tell him and show him exactly how he felt. And, if they managed a life together, which he desired very much, he would show the man the depth of his affection every day without holding back. 

Opening the door to the shed, his eyes went straight for the kitchenette corner, and as expected, the tailor was there, busy with tea. Julian didn’t let him get a word in and simply rushed towards him, took the cup out of his hands, set it down on the workbench and then placed his palms lovingly on the ridges adorning Elim’s jaw. Within a second, he was kissing him like he hadn’t seen him in months.

Garak’s grin was teasing.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your enthusiasm, my dear, but you should really pay attention to your surroundings.”

Julian blinked in confusion, still warmed and slightly dizzy from the kiss.

“We have guests, Julian.” Elim said mischievously and Julian’s eyes went wide.

Sheepishly, he turned around and saw a mismatched trio of Cardassians sitting upon the cot.

Fiddlesticks. 

Parmak seemed vaguely uncomfortable, Phela looked confused and Rekat appeared somewhat disgusted. 

Even without saying anything, Julian had managed to stick his foot in it. With a nervous cough, he stepped away from Elim to reestablish the boundaries of propriety and decided to face the music.

“Uh, I am terribly sorry for not realizing we had company. It is as Elim says, I can be awfully unperceptive sometimes.”

He hoped that was contrite enough for the present company.

“You need not apologize for the affection you hold towards your chosen, Bashir.” Parmak stated in a conciliatory manner, though Julian could feel an undercurrent of sadness in the man’s words.

Kelas loved Elim.

Julian knew it wasn’t a pleasant feeling, being forced to watch the person you love exchanging affection with another. It wouldn’t do to be cruel and rub it in, no matter how much he may have missed Elim. 

Still, he couldn’t voice any of this out loud. It simply wasn’t done. 

Instead, he opted to approach the children and crouched in front of them.

“I am pleased to see you, Rekat, Phela.”

He was met with a deeply unimpressed look from the boy and cautious acceptance from the girl.

Julian fixed Rekat with his most caring gaze.

“Does your belly hurt?”

Rekat didn’t respond, blinking at him insolently.

“I was very worried about you,” Julian tried again. “I am pleased to see you’re doing better.”

“What do you care?” His former guide sniped at him.

Julian didn’t rightly know how to respond to that. What should he say to the boy? That he cared for all his patients? That he’d spent that surgery half-out of his mind and that Elim’s blood now coursed through his veins, making him Garak’s, and anything of Elim’s Julian swore to love? That he liked the boy, no matter how abrasive he was trying to be?

“That’s a terribly ungrateful thing to say to the man who had a hand in saving your life, Rekat. What have I told you about rudeness?” Elim chastised.

Rekat rolled his eyes. 

“You said rudeness is a tool and that I should choose more carefully when I employ it.”

“How good of you to remember your lessons!” Elim said graciously, “Now, it would be splendid if you could actually use what I’d been trying to teach you, hmm? What have I said about apologies?”

Rekat seemed slightly abashed and grumbled a quiet: “To look like I mean them…”

Julian favored Elim with an exasperated look.

“… and doubly so if you don’t!” Garak grinned.

Parmak voiced Julian’s thoughts perfectly, “You’re a terrible influence, Elim.”

The tailor seemed undeterred.

“And in case someone saves your life, what should you say?” Elim coaxed the boy further.

Rekat looked uncomfortable and nearly mutinous, but managed to squeeze out a muted: “Thank you… _shithead_.” The last word was murmured so quietly that Julian barely managed to catch it.

“Now, now… what have I told you about insulting authority figures?” Elim scolded the boy good-naturedly.

“I didn’ say anythin!” Rekat said passionately.

“You said only to do it where we are sure they can’t hear us!” Phela said enthusiastically.

Julian gave a fond chuckle at that, shaking his head at Elim’s so-called lessons. 

“Good girl!” Elim praised her, “And I bet you are smarter than your brother and know that humans, such as Julian here, actually have better hearing than Cardassians do.” He said poignantly, to which her eyes widened.

“Really?” She asked in childish wonder, clearly impressed and then looked at Julian like he had somehow managed to rise in her estimation. 

“Yes, really.” Elim said serenely. “Do I have to explain what that means, Rekat?” He remarked sharply, looking at the boy intently.

Rekat visibly shrunk and muttered contritely:

“It means I was caught… I’m sorry…”

Julian was surprised when Elim sat next to the boy and grasped him gently by the forearms.

“I am not disappointed, Rekat. Do you know why I have taught you these things?”

The boy looked at Garak with such vulnerable openness that Julian felt his heart giving a little twinge.

Elim’s next words were soft and uncharacteristically warm.

“The reason why I don’t want you to get caught, Rekat, is so I never have to rush to the hospital again, not knowing whether I will find you alive.”

The boy’s chin wobbled despite his best effort to keep his lips tightly pressed.

“Do you understand?” Elim inquired gently.

The child made an affirmative gesture and Elim bestowed a proud little smile upon him. 

“Good. I’ve always known you were a smart boy.”

Julian didn’t know how it was possible to fall even deeper in love with this man but he was managing it.

There was no way around it, he was hopelessly, irreversibly smitten.

“Now, let me get you some of this lovely tea.” Elim said sedately and rose from his seat like nothing of import had been discussed.

Julian, in turn, contented himself with observing the children.

Rekot seemed pensive and Phela looked towards Elim wistfully. All Julian wanted was to give these two a place of safety and comfort. Overcome by the feeling, he extended both of his palms towards them and observed their curious reaction.

Phela seemed taken aback and looked to her brother, who appeared wary for some reason.

“Ah, my dear…” Elim sighed somewhere behind him. “Forgive the poor Doctor, children, he is quite unaware of familial gestures.”

“What?” Julian asked, turning to Elim, “What have I bungled up now?”

Startled, he turned around once he felt a tiny hand pressing against his still extended palm. Amazed, he realized Phela had returned his gesture. 

“Why’d ya do that, stupid?” Rekat chided her, “The alien dunno what he just did anyhow! Are you really that desperate?”

Her gaze was mutinous, and she held the gesture firmly.

“He is Tailor’s chosen. They will enjoin, and when they do – they can adopt us!”

Rekat groaned.

“Phel, you can be really dumb sometimes.”

“Tailor gave you blood! He mends our clothes! Gives us food! He’s already Father!”

The vehemence of that statement near melted Julian’s heart.

“That doesn’t mean he wants to adopt us, sleg brain!”

Rekat’s wariness was understandable. Who knew whether same-sex couples were even allowed to adopt? He doubted his alien status was helping the situation.

Still, the image of children playing in front of the shed resurfaced in his mind. 

Julian wanted to speak his mind but since he hadn’t discussed this with Elim previously, he was hesitant.

His soul, however, didn’t let him hold his tongue.

Misty-eyed, he said quietly yet clearly, “I would love to adopt you, Rekat. You and Phela both.”

Something clattered to the floor behind him.

He turned to look and Elim was staring at him with an indecipherable expression on his face. If he didn’t know better, Julian would say it looked like the Cardassian was caught completely off guard.

Parmak interjected:

“Giving the children false hope is cruel, Bashir.”

Julian heard the words but chose to ignore them. 

Only Elim’s next words mattered. 

“Adoption is a serious commitment, Julian.” Garak said gravely. “You shouldn’t say such things unless you mean them.”

Julian turned to the children. 

Phela dropped her hand and looked dejected.

Julian kissed her little chufa and gave her a reassuring look, then turned to her brother who looked far from mollified. 

“I know I am not who you would choose for your family, Rekat… But am I wrong in assuming… you would like Elim to be your Father?”

Rekat suddenly looked uncharacteristically hesitant. 

“The Tailor’s busy. He has no time for snot-nosed brats.” The child said defiantly, though Julian could sense loss and longing beneath the childish bluster.

Elim approached with three cups of tea, which he distributed to Parmak and the children. Once Rekat had his cup in hand, Elim swiped his index under the boy’s nose, making him squawk indignantly.

“Hm? Look at that,” Elim said nonchalantly, “No snot. I guess that means I have some time in my busy schedule for a couple of adorable children.”

Phela giggled in delight.

Julian was gazing at Elim lovingly.

“I wouldn’t dare presume, Bashir, but aren’t you going back to your duties in about three weeks?” Parmak’s somber voice drifted in. “The children are independent, that much is true, but what use is a parent who is never there?”

Garak was giving Kelas a warning look. The Cardassian doctor seemed unrepentant. Julian could read between the lines perfectly well.

_ What use is a partner who is never around? _

Well, of course. Neither men knew about his plans.

Julian huffed in self-recrimination. He really should have told Elim beforehand.

“I, uh… I haven’t told you…” He said sheepishly, looking to his beloved for reassurance. “I kind of… Made a decision… without notifying you. I know, I know! That’s not a good thing but I wanted it to be official before I broke the news, and I still haven’t sent the request for a transfer since I’ve had no time to compose one…”

“Julian,” Elim halted him, “You are rambling.”

He had the terrible misfortune to blush in front of everyone.

“Uh, yes… Long story short – I wish to transfer to Cardassia. In any capacity, really. I don’t care what they reassign me to, as long as I get to stay with you, Elim.”

Garak’s face seemed frozen. Some complex emotion was swirling in his gaze and he seemed to be warring with himself. The self-composed mask crumbled before Julian’s eyes, leaving behind an uncharacteristically vulnerable look of relief and devotion.

Elim mouthed to say something, yet choked on his words.

“Was I presumptuous again, Elim?” Julian asked gently, “Is this even something you would like?”

The last of the man’s reservations sublimated before his eyes and Julian noted the naked adoration with which his beloved dropped to his knees next to him and brought their foreheads together. 

“_Mirror of my soul…” _Julian spoke in stunted Kardassi and felt Elim leaning in more firmly.

“You wish to stay with me…” Elim stated in choked wonder.

“Yes, I do.” Julian said softly.

“You were always welcome.” Elim murmured with his eyes closed.

“I will do everything to make it happen, I promise.” Julian vowed.

Garak opened his eyes at that and smiled brightly.

“Oh, I have no doubt. You can be awfully determined when you set your mind to something.” The clear blue of his eyes was gleaming with mischief and fondness in equal measure. “Pity I cannot seem to teach you about the right time and place to be having such conversations. I am beginning to think you are beyond hope!”

Julian laughed and looked at their captive audience in embarrassment. 

Parmak averted his gaze. Julian couldn’t help but notice the rigidity in the man’s posture. And to think, quite recently, he’d been convinced Kelas and Elim were lovers… He felt sorry for the Cardassian doctor. This image of domesticity, together with the children, could have been something the other man might have dreamed of, likely for considerably longer than Julian had.

_ I’m not a usurper, _ Julian reminded himself, _Elim__ chose. I will make him happy._

That might be of little consolation to Parmak, but Julian was determined.

Phela looked almost gleeful and her chosen brother just stared at Elim, looking conflicted. 

“Rekat… Phela.” Julian asked for their attention gently. The girl looked at him somberly and the boy observed him in silence. “I am leaving for Deep Space 9 in three weeks, where I will pack up all my belongings and hopefully get new orders of transferal to Cardassia.”

“What if you don’t?” Parmak asked with steel in his voice.

Julian smiled and shrugged.

“If I don’t… I will resign.” It was a possibility he was prepared for. He laughed at the thought. “Zeyem would be thrilled!” 

The look in Elim’s eyes was brighter and warmer than a clear Cardassian day.

“I dream of a strong Cardassia too, Elim…” Julian said quietly, looking at his chosen with admiration.

For once, Julian could read his beloved like an open book. 

Love.

Desire.

A dream coming true.

Pride.

How he burned for this man.

“I can’t imagine a future without you, Elim… I want to build a life with you.”

This was tantamount to a proposal in Julian’s mind. 

It felt strange, saying it in front of an audience, but this would be his family soon.

Even Kelas, as a close family friend – an uncle almost, to the children.

Julian didn’t want to rip Parmak out of the picture. 

The man had every right to be here.

Even if it wasn’t in the capacity he would have chosen.

“Let me help you remake a stronger Cardassia.” Julian entreated and Elim’s eyes gleamed like twin stars.

“Who am I to stop you?” The tailor said softly, with the makings of a warm smile tugging at his lips.

“Why choose an alien?” Rekat asked, clearly not sold on the idea.

Elim looked at the boy with narrowed eyes. It didn’t take him long to come up with a rebuke.

“Of all the orphaned children, why did you choose Phela for your sister?”

“Wha-“ Rekot seemed affronted, “I liked her best!”

Elim’s gaze softened.

“There you go… Sometimes, what we like best may not be what others would want us to pick. Perhaps our choice offends them, angers them… Still… It doesn’t change what we like best.”

Rekat was frowning, his soft little ridges all scrunched up. 

“If I took Phela away and brought you a new little girl to be your sister, just as smart, just as pretty – would you be happy with that?”

“No!” Rekat said fiercely, “She wouldn’t be Phela!”

“Mhm.” Elim said sagely, “And if Phela contracted some strange disease and her skin turned pink, would you care for her any less?”

“Doctor Kelas would cure her!” Rekat cried out, clearly distressed by the idea.

“Sometimes, there is no cure.” Elim said harshly. “Would her odd coloring put you off? Would you deny her your palm?”

“I-“ Rekot stammered and looked to his little sister who seemed on the verge of tears. “Never!” The boy said earnestly, clearly trying to stave off his sibling’s crying. “Not even if her ridges fell off!” 

To prove how serious he was, Rekat offered his palm to Phela and she hiccupped, then returned the gesture firmly.

Elim’s gaze was satisfied and gentle.

“And that, Rekat – is love. Once you love someone’s spirit, their existence becomes irreplaceable to you. Their shell may change or grow older, but as long as the soul you feel bound to is there, what you feel will not change. Do you understand?”

The boy’s trembling chin indicated a yes. 

“In that case, I believe my mate’s question requires an answer.” Elim prodded kindly.

Julian’s being was flooded with golden light.

“Rekat, Phela…” Julian spoke hesitantly, “When I return… would you like to be our family?”

“A tailor and a doctor, you could do significantly worse…” Elim told the children lightly.

Julian looked to Parmak, who seemed torn between joy and poorly concealed despair. 

“Two doctors.” Julian said gently. “Uncle Kelas also cares for you.”

Parmak’s face was overcome with surprise. 

The man’s features softened as he looked at the siblings.

“I am at your disposal, children.”

Phela looked at the Cardassian doctor warmly and Rekat inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement.

Elim brought up both of his palms and Julian observed as the siblings nearly scrambled to reciprocate, Phela beaming and Rekat looking more heartbrokenly hopeful than Julian ever could have imagined.

“Cross your right hand with my left, Julian. Extend your palms like I did.” Elim instructed and he obeyed without question.

Once his palms were in position, the children pressed their free palms against his.

This configuration was clearly significant and somewhat ritualistic. 

“May this be your hearth and home.” Elim stated solemnly and Julian repeated the phrase.

Phela laughed, sniffling slightly and Rekat was pressing his lips tightly together, clearly trying his hardest to remain composed. 

“It will not be official until we get the State dispensation, which may take a very long time-“

“Like we give honge shit about that.” Rekat said with a frown.

Elim grinned wickedly.

“Didn’t think so. Regardless, we shall petition for adoption. Proper customs shall be observed, no matter how foolish they may be.”

Just hearing such open criticism for their system from Elim was near heretical. It made Julian proud.

He looked around the shack, wondering how they would expand it to fit in the two children.

This was home.

Family.

Everything he’d never known he wanted.

He looked at his loved ones and smiled.

The tea remained untouched for a while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lovely chapter to write!
> 
> As always, I live for your thoughts! :D


	79. A Taste of Unity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelas takes the children away.
> 
> Julian and Elim indulge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, humm... I-er.
> 
> I made an art.
> 
> Uh.
> 
> Hope you like it!
> 
> *scurries away*

Kelas had taken the children away before midnight. Julian didn't get the impression this was due to some custom of bedtime, rather the fact they all had work in the morning. Julian thanked the man profusely, to which Parmak merely smiled placidly.

Julian watched them go, the siblings stealing glances at Elim as they walked off into the dark night. He looked in their direction until they disappeared from view and sighed.

“I never thought you vindictive, my dear.” Elim murmured and hugged him from behind. 

Julian melted into the embrace and placed his hands over Elim’s.

“What will you accuse me of this time, love?” Julian muttered over his shoulder.

“Accuse? How poorly you think of me, my sweet… And here I was, trying to commend you…”

Julian snorted.

“Commend away, then.”

Elim burrowed his nose into his hair and muttered distractedly.

“My memory’s not what it used to be, I must be getting senile in my old age…”

“Oh, I see,” Julian snickered, “You need an appointment with a doctor for that? I could arrange something with Zeyem… I am sure she would love prodding you with all sorts of cold implements.”

Elim started shaking with suppressed laughter.

Julian wished his lover would escalate his touches already. 

“Why would I go to such a harsh woman, when I have a perfectly competent physician right here?” 

Julian grinned and turned around in Elim’s arms.

“I have an experimental treatment in mind for this highly uncharacteristic bout of forgetfulness…”

Elim looked at him wide-eyed and teasing.

“Does it include the use of cold implements?”

Julian laughed helplessly and placed his arms around the man’s ornate neck.

“I didn’t know you were interested in that, Garak! How deviant of you!”

Elim all but growled against his lips and Julian’s arousal spiked.

“I’d prefer my implements warm, if you don’t mind, Doctor.” Elim stated in a silky smooth voice and Julian felt his knees go weak.

“Fuck, Elim… You have such a dirty mind…” Julian groaned as Garak pulled him closer, nipping at his neck.

“I am still waiting to hear about this experimental treatment you proposed…”

Julian trembled.

A part of him wished to stay out in the open.

Now that he was allowed to keep his eyes open, he wished to see Elim’s skin glowing silver in the moonlight. 

According to his calculations, the next Blind Moon would be out in three days time.

“Elim… Can we take a stroll around Tarlak Grounds in three days?”

Shrewd eyes met his. 

“What did you have in mind, my dear?”

Julian didn’t want to disclose what just occurred to him. 

Making love in a public place was probably a huge no-no on Cardassia, even one sans Obsidian Order or any kind of effective police force.

Julian wanted to make the occasion special. A night just for them - something romantic.

“The suits could be finished by then…” Elim mentioned off-handedly as he placed gentle kisses beneath his jaw. 

“That would be lovely,” Julian said distractedly, already picturing a perfect evening. They would stroll around Tarlak, Elim would explain the significance of all the surviving monuments, they could take a blanket with them to sit on and stargaze – the Taluvian Constellations, if visible, would be so beautiful.

“How easily distracted you are, Julian…” Elim smirked against his skin, “Your patient could very well die and you would be none the wiser.”

Garak made it hard to think, the bastard.

“I can vouch that this patient is the very picture of health, and is, as such, wasting his doctor’s valuable time.” Julian retorted, all the while enjoying himself shamelessly.

“How rude of him!” Elim said in a scandalized tone, “Perhaps you should leave the ingrate to his fate, then?”

Julian smirked and pushed his lover into the shed.

“Oh, I have every intention of giving this insolent patient exactly what he deserves.”

With that, he shut the door behind them and attacked Elim’s clothing.

The gleam in the tailor’s eyes was positively sinful.

Julian realized that much like in Cardassian conversation, reciprocity was expected and appreciated. And he had nigh on eight years of shameless flirting to return.

Julian was careful not to rip anything in his exuberance; though he had a sneaking suspicion Garak might actually like that.

“Such a domineering bedside manner!” Elim observed. “One could get sued for malpractice over such a thing…”

Julian’s grin was thrilled.

“You would be surprised at the amount of secrets your doctor can amass against you. A suit could prove… detrimental to your health.”

Elim drew a sharp breath, blatantly savoring his words.

“Doctors have been put in labor camps over less, my dear…”

“You forget; the Obsidian Order is no more…” Julian said predatorily. “I believe I will take my chances,” He declared boldly and headed straight for Elim’s sensitive ridges, alternating languid licks, kisses and bruising bites.

Elim groaned and grasped him tighter.

“Perhaps it should be reinstated, hmm?” Garak insinuated, “Clearly there is a need for their services. People have lost all respect for their authority figures!”

Julian caressed his lover’s body with burning desire.

“You forget one important detail, Garak… In the doctor’s office, all defer to his expertise.”

Elim was moaning in earnest now. The sounds of his unrestrained pleasure were doing a number on Julian’s already lust-hazed mind.

Deciding he was quite ready to feel Cardassian scales against his skin, Julian stripped his shirt off in a fluid movement, tossing it onto the cot.

That single moment of respite must have been enough to jog the former spy’s snark centers, since he had a comeback at the ready.

“I have never seen a treatment that required the physician to be naked…”

Julian grinned.

“I find your lack of faith in my expertise appalling, Garak.”

The man was a vision. Neither shadow, nor light – a perfect embodiment and blend of both.

_ And he is mine _ , Julian thought, _willingly_.

_ I’m so lucky _ .

With that thought, he kissed Elim’s _chula_ with care and allowed his fingertips to ghost over the intricate scaling of his lover’s chest. The different textures usually hidden behind the man’s immaculately tailored suits were positively enthralling. The skin was soft, yet unyielding. The scales varied in softness, some were almost cartilage, some felt like hardened leather and others yet were supple and smooth like deerskin.

He sought out places with nerve clusters and teased Elim mercilessly. Cardassian skin was less sensitive overall but had precise locations which could be manipulated into pleasure. 

Elim’s breathing was turning ragged.

“I notice my patient has stopped complaining…” He said audaciously and continued his exploration.

“He has been rendered speechless by the utter barbarity inflicted upon him.” Elim fired back without a second’s thought.

“Elim Garak, rendered speechless!” Julian proclaimed cheekily. Tain might be rolling in his grave but he wasn’t crass enough to give voice to the thought. “What a memorable occasion!”

“Indeed,” Elim conceded, “Remember it fondly, for you might never again see its like.”

“Such ineffectual threats…” Julian all but purred against Elim’s ear before caressing his neck ridges firmly. The sight of a man usually so self-possessed losing his train of thought was incredibly rewarding.

Who knew Elim could be so… yielding?

“May I suggest you divest me completely? I’d hate to evert into my clothes like a desperate teenager.”

Julian was impressed with the haughtiness in that tone. All he desired was to strip away every last vestige of that well-mannered veneer Garak had polished to perfection. 

“Akleen forbid you soil your clothing, that would be terribly inconvenient for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Such a blasphemous way to invoke our founding father’s name, I must protest.”

Julian hummed against Elim throat and sucked on a patch of smooth skin, distracting from what his hands were doing; traveling on a downward course, inbound for Elim’s _chuva_. When he found the final tear-shaped indent on his lover’s body, it produced a lovely shudder, followed by an unrestrained moan. Unable to resist, Julian set about freeing the man of the rest of his garments. 

Garak was quivering under his touch.

It made Julian crave him even more. What would it take to have his beloved come undone completely? 

Once Elim was bared to his hungry gaze, Julian admired him openly. 

The man was gorgeous.

Julian knelt at his feet and caressed the enticing trail of scales from his ankles upwards. 

“Elim…” He murmured admiringly, “You are a work of art.”

The sharp intake of breath at that statement was divine.

“I don’t understand why you would hide from my gaze, Elim. I could watch you for hours and never get bored.”

The Cardassian snorted.

“I shall remind you of that statement in a decade or so.” 

“Please do,” Julian answered softly, “So I can tell you I still love every single scale.”

With that, Julian got up and shed the remainder of his own attire. 

Garak’s eyes were gleaming in the gloom. Slowly, intently, Julian approached and gently caressed the tear shape nestled beneath Elim’s clavicles. His left hand twined in the man’s hair and he sighed in contentment, pressing their foreheads together. Once he realized his beloved had closed his eyes to savor the moment, Julian followed suit.

“You enthrall me utterly, _mirror of my soul_.” Julian confessed.

Elim hummed what was likely an agreement but said nothing. The grey fingers caressing his ribs were gentle and the hand against the nape of his neck was warm and sure.

Loving Elim was so much more than a physical act. The kind of pleasure he felt was almost transcendent, for he could feel it in every nerve-ending and in each thought. If forced to describe it, the closest he could get would be to say it felt like every atom comprising him was in an agitated state, reacting to Elim’s presence.

This was beyond simple want or lust.

It was a union of souls.

They were floating in an ocean of golden light and Julian wondered whether Odo’s Great Link felt something like this.

Julian wished to taste.

Touch.

Feel.

Everything.

So he prepared their bed, as Elim had before.

Carefully, tidily.

There was respect in order.

And once he was done, he looked to the man he loved.

“Would you lie on your back for me, Elim?”

_ Let me repay you. _ His eyes spoke. _Allow me this honor._

His lover said nothing and obliged with a soft look on his face.

The sight of Elim lying beneath him was dizzying. 

Julian ran his palms over every scale, mapping them with the zeal of an enthusiastic researcher and care of a most attentive lover. He kissed the man’s chest and drank in the heady, sweet scent teasing his nostrils and tantalizing his mind. Ever lower he went, excruciatingly slowly, drugged on Elim’s minute yet eager movements – such sweet encouragements they were. The delicate and ornate scales between his thighs were too inviting to resist. He ran his tongue against them and groaned when Elim almost keened, bucking slightly beneath him.

He watched in fascination as the Cardassian everted, slick and tempting. For a moment, he forgot to breathe altogether. 

What was permissible, Julian wondered. How should he touch Elim? Was oral sex even a thing for Cardassians? Julian fervently hoped so because the wanton display in front of him was entirely too tempting for his good.

“May I… touch you?” Julian asked, half-strangled by sheer desire.

“I would be terribly upset if you didn’t, my dear.” Elim said almost lazily, though Julian could see through the poorly constructed mask. 

Willing his heart rate to slow, Julian took a few calming breaths to prepare. The _ajan_ was sensitive, it wouldn’t do to harm Garak just because he was overzealous. Gently and carefully, he slipped a finger in.

Elim exhaled loudly, with a strange throaty sound, midway between a purr and a hiss. 

Julian longed to hear it again. 

Focusing his efforts on the man’s _irrlun_, Julian caressed it with one hand, while dipping two fingers into Elim’s slippery _ajan_. 

“Why is everywhere I touch perfect, Elim?” Julian said almost unconsciously and watched as his lover’s body writhed. Buoyed by the overwhelmingly positive response to his efforts, Julian dipped his tongue into the slick heat. Almost immediately, Elim’s fingers were in his hair and Julian thought he would be pulled away, yet when he tried to, he realized the hand wasn’t there to deter him but rather to keep him exactly where he was.

No further encouragement proved necessary.

Soon, Elim was gasping and voicing his appreciation in whimpers and disjointed hisses, and Julian gave himself wholly into the task. If he’d thought the taste of the man’s mouth was addictive, this then could only be described as mind-altering. He hummed and moaned against Garak’s sensitive skin and enjoyed the hypnotic undulating movements he got as a reward. 

He couldn’t remember a more responsive lover. 

Then again, he was having a hard time remembering much of anything. 

His mind, his soul and his mouth were all full of Elim.

The world was reduced to this shed, this bed and this man.

Everything sloughed off his worldly perceptions, leaving behind only the body and the soul he was currently making love to.

“Would it hurt if I penetrated you?” Julian asked, hoping fervently this could work for them. 

He wanted to feel Elim.

“As long as you don’t sheathe fully at once, it shouldn’t hurt, no.”

Julian made a gesture of acknowledgment and drank in the sight of Garak so thoroughly debauched.

“Keep in mind, dear – wriggle often and thrust in moderation.”

“Duly noted.” Julian accepted the advice and proceeded to put it into practice. 

“Fuck, Elim, you’re so slick-“ It was honestly hard not to give in to his natural instinct but if Elim had been considerate enough to modify his behavior to better please, it would be downright rude of Julian to do any less. Stilling his movements, he just breathed for a moment. It wouldn’t do to rush this. Damn it, though, focusing was nearly impossible with the way Elim was arching beneath him, eyes closed, mouth open, head tilted back and throat bared…

It wasn’t easy but guided by his lover’s movements and barely verbal instructions, he managed to find a sideways rolling motion they both seemed to enjoy. His skin was covered with a sheen of perspiration and Elim would occasionally wipe his brow and card fingers through his hair with such affection it stole Julian’s breath away.

The intent look in Elim’s wonderful eyes was arresting. Unable and unwilling to look away, Julian gasped at the sensation.

Could Elim read his mind?

Could he tell how close he was already?

With a whimper, Julian confessed, “You feel too good, I can’t-unh-“

Elim sneaked a hand behind his ear and deactivated his Translator with a soft press.

Only then did he speak.

A stream of fluently rich Kardassi washed over him, drawing his focus and sharpening it.

He understood fragmented words.

Mention of clothing.

The verb _to give_.

Some variant of _alive_.

The word for water in conjunction with something else he didn’t understand.

Encouragement and love.

So much love.

Overwhelming.

Julian shuddered and breathed the Kardassi word for love, hoping his raspy pronunciation was adequate.

It must have been, because Elim was now grasping his hips and drawing him in.

Teetering on the edge, Julian let loose a strangled grunt and felt the overpowering rush of release. He basked in it shamelessly for a long moment.

When his gaze met Elim’s, he realized the haze of lust was yet to dissipate for the man.

Making his mind up at once, he gently disentangled them and pulled back slightly.

“_You_…” Elim spoke, followed by some variant of negation, a verb and then more words Julian couldn’t understand, ending with an endearment, knowing Elim, it was most likely _my dear_.

Going out on a limb, Julian replied in Standard.

“I have no intention of leaving you unsatisfied, my love.”

With that said, he gave his beloved one last lingering look of promise and took him in.

Elim’s answering keen sounded desperately needy.

Julian hummed in satisfaction, delighted.

His lover was tensing beneath him, clearly close. There were words, but Julian suspected they were terribly garbled, even by Cardassian standards. He hoped Elim would stop him physically, if he had an intention to do so. 

When nothing of the sort happened, Julian redoubled his efforts and was rewarded by a muffled cry, followed by a new taste and texture.

This was novel.

It almost had the consistency of kanar.

Almost.

The flavor was completely alien though.

It wasn’t unpleasant.

He switched his UT back on and swallowed.

“-have chosen an utter deviant. How fortunate.”

Despite having caught only the tail end of that statement, Julian grinned, observing avidly as Elim’s prUt retreated back into its usual position.

“A xenophile dares talk about deviance. I find your hypocrisy appalling, Elim.”

Garak huffed beneath him and gave him a reproachful look. 

“Must you always misunderstand my compliments? I might grow tired of that…”

Julian flashed him a wicked look.

“Oh, you look plenty tired to me already.”

Elim groaned and pulled him down for an embrace.

“That’s what I get for choosing a young lover.” The tailor sighed.

Julian laughed and snuggled closer.

“Be careful what you wish for…” 

Elim’s tone was endlessly soft.

“You’ve always made me rather reckless, my dear…”

_ That’s why you love me _ , Julian thought fondly, as he lay half-draped over Elim - satiated and endlessly content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! Another loving chapter! 
> 
> I live for your thoughts, opinions, suggestions, theories, corrections, and criticism!


	80. Married to Cardassia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elim and Julian discuss their future.
> 
> Julian reassures Elim.

Julian awoke to gentle humming and fingertips trailing down his shoulder. He made an appreciative little sound and snuggled further into safety and warmth. 

“Your skin is softer than Tholian silk, Julian…” Garak muttered against his hair, “I could run my hands over it for hours…”

Julian smiled lazily against the man’s neck, tucked in and perfectly content. Sleepily, he muttered:

“You’ll have years…”

At that, Garak brushed his nose through his hair and breathed him in, almost like he wanted to commit the scent to his memory.

“I’m looking forward to it, my dear.”

Years with Elim…

He wanted that.

Julian couldn’t remember ever looking forward to years spent with someone. Not beyond that nebulous sense given by a crush, which teased with the prospect of forever, while never taking shape properly.

“We have to expand the shed… Build a room for the children…” He muttered against Garak’s heated skin.

A shaky exhale was followed by a tighter embrace.

Why did Julian get the feeling Elim was afraid of something?

“What’s the matter, love?” A soothing murmur passed his lips and he pressed a soft kiss into his lover’s neck.

“Nothing, Julian. All is good.”

He huffed.

“You forget I know you quite well, Elim… What are you afraid of?”

A small shiver passed through the man’s strong frame, and Julian knew at once it was something that ran deep. After all, he was no stranger to repressed emotions. 

Silence reigned, punctuated by Elim’s caresses and attempts to get his breathing under control. The signs were minute, and had he not been hyper-focused, Julian would have easily missed them.

Attempting to comfort the man he loved, he spoke in Kardassi:

“_Mirror of my soul, speak…”_ He deliberately kept it simple, for fear he mess it up. Hopefully, the imperative use was good. It wouldn’t do to give Garak a reason to start mocking his lousy attempts and derail the conversation.

“My Julian… “ Garak’s breath hitched. “Always so kind…”

Julian squirmed until he could see Elim’s face clearly. The man was near tears. Softened by the sight, he caressed his beloved’s dear face and kissed his cheek tenderly.

“What do you need, Elim? Tell me.” 

There was a struggle behind those blue eyes, painful and intense. Elim was looking at him like he might disappear any moment now.

“Is this real?” The man whispered in the most hesitant voice Julian had heard from him. 

“Oh Elim…” He spoke gently, “Of course it’s real.”

“Do you truly want a life here, with me?”

Julian smiled, overcome with emotion.

“More than anything.”

How could he prove this to Garak beyond a shadow of a doubt? 

He decided on honesty.

“I love you. I… can’t even express how much. Cardassia has given me what I’ve never even hoped for – a place to belong and people who value and cherish me. Moje is… _feels_… more like a mother to me than Amsha ever did. Akot is like a younger sister and you… You are… _everything _to me. I can’t imagine waking without you anymore. I don’t want to spend months without your company, no matter how married to my job I usually am… I thought Starfleet was where I belonged and I’ve done a lot of good there, I can’t deny that… But if it would cost me your presence, your warmth… It isn’t worth it.”

“You would give up your career for a life with me?” Elim asked, clearly needing the reassurance.

Julian laughed softly and incredulously.

“What use is a career if I cannot be with the other half of my soul?”

Elim’s eyes were glistening.

“I _belong_ with you - _to_ you. I…” Julian searched for the right words. “Elim… by your side… I don’t feel like an unfinished man.”

A choked, suppressed sound escaped Garak.

Julian pressed his forehead against Elim’s.

“Your words saved me…” Julian muttered, willing Elim to feel the full force and depth of the love he had for him. He wished to pull Elim into that green, lush field and hold his hands; his wonderful, skilled hands and gift him the world.

“I want to give you a lush and prospering Cardassia, Elim… Perhaps it’s just an idealist’s illusion but… If we could create a long-term terraforming project and enlist the Federation’s aid and expertise, within a generation or two, Cardassia could be flourishing once more – just like it was in the times before the great climatic change, when the ancient Hebitians lived. If Risa can be kept earthquake free and have a massive, planet-wide climate control system, and it’s just a pleasure planet, I don’t see why something couldn’t be done for your world… no,“

Then he looked Elim deeply in the eyes and smiled with such warmth it made his skin tingle.

“_Our_ world… our…home.”

“Is this what you were referring to back when you spoke with Astraea?” Elim asked quietly.

“Yes! It is.”

“You are aware we likely won’t live to see that lofty dream of yours realized?”

Julian laughed.

“Rekat and Phela might.”

Those words seemed to break something in Elim as the man shivered and buried his face in Julian’s shoulder.

“Do you know how impossible that dream is…” Garak gasped, trembling in his arms, “How many hurdles will have to be overcome… We won’t have any time for ourselves, not like you humans imagine marriage – we will be enjoined to Cardassia. Can you… even envision that?”

“Elim… I hate to break it to you but you are already married to Cardassia. Always have been. It’s been your driving force and your source of strength. That is why it hurts you so much to see it reduced to this state. Your heart bleeds for the suffering your people must endure… That’s why we must _heal_ them, Elim. Just like you told Kelas. This world needs to be nurtured. And I know you would do _anything_ to help Cardassia in the time of its greatest need. I would be a poor partner if I didn’t support you in this endeavor.”

“It seems… you have corrupted me with your Federation tripe, my dear… Because-“ Here he gripped Julian tightly, “I find myself entertainingit…” 

“We can accomplish it. I know we can.” Julian said passionately, “We’re not alone – there’s Kelas, Moje, Alon, even Pythas! Ocett has proven invaluable as well; there are people who share a vision of a better Cardassia. With their help, and a unity your people are known for, it doesn’t have to remain just a dream!” 

“Is this where you tell me some nonsense about how love conquers all?” Garak said sarcastically.

Julian snorted. If Elim could be sarcastic, it meant he would be fine.

“Of course not, don’t be daft.” He said fondly, “Yet… It does make everything infinitely more bearable, doesn’t it? It makes us persevere long after a reasonable person would have quit… And that is how we will build a strong Cardassia, Elim. By simply never quitting.”

“I will be enjoined to an idealist. How _unfortunate_.”

Julian laughed at Elim’s grousing. Well, at least the tears had stopped.

“Moje calls us _air_ _men_, and she is right. You’re every bit the idealist I am, Elim. You just hide it better.”

“Oh, is that so, my dear Doctor? Do you think I’ve no more secrets before your discerning gaze?”

Julian caressed Elim’s hair.

“Keep any secrets you wish, Elim, just let me love you.”

He may not have expected it but his words prompted Elim to kiss him gently. It lasted a good long while, leaving him breathless and light-headed.

“I am quite weak when it comes to you, Julian… Don’t abuse it.” The tone was chiding but Julian sensed a deep truth in those words.

Garak… Man of unmatched strength, skill and wit, had a weakness.

Elim’s heart had always been his weakness.

Or, at least, that was the great lie Tain tried to drill into him.

“Your heart is your greatest strength, Elim… Never doubt it.”

The skimmer was due to arrive in less than half an hour but Julian was loath to move. Wrapped up in a perfect embrace, he told himself unconvincingly-

_ Just five more minutes _ …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet and loving! 
> 
> I hope everyone is still enjoying this story, and I'm sorry to say the updates may slow to 2 or 3 chapters a week since these last ones are quite hard to write. 
> 
> I hope it doesn't upset anyone too much, and if I manage to pick up my pace, the updates could become more frequent, but I can make no promises... 
> 
> As always, drop me a thought or two, it makes me all mushy inside. :)


	81. Poster Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last of the plague victims leaves surgery.
> 
> Telat and Julian chat.
> 
> Ghemor seeks out Julian to make good on his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I composed a new piece! [Not Allowed to Touch](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/190828815081/under-the-blind-moon-ost-this-song-goes) goes wonderfully with chapters 44 - "Misunderstanding" and 77 - "A Bittersweet Past". I will add this song there, but I had to share here so everyone would be up to speed!
> 
> Also, Happy Birthday Andrew Robinson! :D

The surgery had been excruciating.

It was the last of the Breen virus patients from the 4th room; Zeyem and Gaddik assisted while he transplanted the patient's heart, liver and part of a lung. This one had been lucky; he'd survived. Several others were not so fortunate. They'd managed to save about 40% of them, which Julian supposed wasn't too bad, considering the circumstances. Despite knowing he had done everything he could, there was still a niggling voice in the back of his head whispering that he should have done more.

“Trengem, take him to the convalescence room.”

Vonek gave her a barely perceptible gesture of acknowledgment and whisked the patient away.

Zeyem removed her gloves and gave him a piercing look.

“I’m glad this is finally over, Bashir. And so should you be.”

“Yeah…” Julian sighed. “I know.”

Her gaze softened marginally.

“We are all mortals, Julian. Our best has limits. Going beyond those is something we strive for, but there will always be only so much we can do. Now… a species’ accomplishments and accumulated knowledge, if preserved… Those are limitless. That is what we aspire to and contribute towards.”

Zeyem was right. The only reason he knew so much was because of countless generations before him investing entire lifetimes to collecting and preserving knowledge. He was just on the end of a long spiral, hopefully propelling their knowledge into a new age.

“Now go. Get yourself cleaned up.”

Julian nodded and shuffled over to the bathroom.

***

“Bashir!” Gaddik called out when he was on his way home.

Julian turned around and gave the man a warm smile.

“What’s going on, Telat? Need me for something?”

The nurse smiled and extended his palm, which Julian happily reciprocated for about two and a half seconds.

“It won’t take long, here,” The Cardassian said and handed him a tin. “You mentioned you liked Tarkalean tea, so I got you some.”

Julian accepted the tin and gave him a grin. 

“That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you!”

Telat made a dismissive hand gesture and said brightly, 

“It’s the least I could do, after the example you set!” Gaddik laughed and Julian wondered whether this sight was what made Vonek’s cold countenance melt (along with the stolid man’s heart).

“What example?” Julian wondered aloud.

Telat gave him a warm look.

“Vonek finally decided to propose to me.”

Julian looked at him, perplexed into silence. It only lasted a moment and then he grinned joyfully.

“That’s great, Telat! Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Gaddik murmured humbly, “Naturally, I accepted.”

“So, when are you getting enjoined?” Julian asked, his natural curiosity sparked.

Telat laughed.

“Quite soon, I should think. The bureaucracy is rather… indisposed at the moment, which means any contract signing for our life partnership will have to wait, but that doesn’t mean we cannot speak our vows.”

“What does the ceremony usually look like? I’ve never seen a Cardassian wedding.”

Gaddik gave him a mischievous smile.

“I have a feeling you’ll see one soon, judging by the state of affairs between you and Garak…”

Julian blushed profusely.

“Why does everyone comment on that?! Is it because I’m an alien? Does everyone on Cardassia know by now? Or is this prurient interest in my personal business some other cultural norm I’m unaware of?”

Telat took hold of his elbow and laughed good-naturedly.

“Well, it’s not every day that an alien courts a Cardassian… Especially not on Prime. I mean, mixed unions are not unheard of, but they are certainly rare enough to spark interest.”

“So, you’re essentially telling me that I’m a walking curiosity.” Julian deadpanned.

Gaddik had the good grace to appear slightly sheepish.

“A crude way to put it… But… Accurate, I suppose.”

Julian harrumphed.

“Don’t take it to heart, Julian. There are so few things left to live for on our ruined homeworld… The fact someone, no matter how unlikely, found love in all this devastation… It makes life slightly more bearable.”

Julian relaxed a bit at that.

“I shouldn’t keep you from your chosen any longer,” Telat stated softly, “I will see you tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Julian affirmed, “See you at the debriefing!”

With that, he gave a little wave and headed towards the exit.

He wondered what Elim was doing. Was he busy with something?

Were the suits completed?

The Blind Moon would be out in two days and he was very curious to see the no-doubt beautiful garments Elim had crafted for them.

Elim would look so elegant in burgundy…

Damn it, his pulse was elevated again. 

Just the thought of him sent Julian’s blood racing. The taste of Elim’s skin was forever burned into his mind, along with a myriad of other sensations he’d been fortunate enough to experience.

Elim’s burning blue eyes, gazing into his soul…

His ridges and scales flushed a dark hue, contrasting the rest of his exquisitely ornate skin…

The way he moved, both above him and beneath him…

Julian wanted everything.

He wanted forever.

He wanted to grow old and gray and just take Elim by the hand, pick a direction and walk for hours through a lush green plain of his dreams.

He stopped for a moment, just outside of the Research Center, placed a hand over his cheek and mouth and let out an incredulous exhale.

_ How have I managed to get here? _

The sky was a warm color, a vibrant red mingling with an intense, almost mustard yellow. His heart swelled.

This would be the sky he would spend his life watching.

The ruined skyline would slowly get rebuilt within his lifetime.

These streets would fill with people, and the sound of their lovely, resonant voices.

Overwhelmed at the thought, he gazed at the late afternoon sun as it lazily dipped ever closer to the horizon. 

“_Beautiful…”_ He muttered to himself in Kardassi.

“That wasn’t half-bad,” A voice spoke from somewhere behind. Julian flinched and turned around.

“Ghemor!” He gasped in relief, “Why are you sneaking up on me? Is that what your fancy Bamarren education amounts to? Creeping up on unsuspecting humans? You almost gave me a heart attack!”

The politician smiled beatifically and completely ignored both his discomfort and his questions.

“I should like to point out that the word you used applies to individuals, though. If you were admiring the scenery, you would use a different term.” Which he then helpfully supplied.

Julian shook his head. Crazy Cardassians.

“Thank you for the tip, Ghemor, now… what can I help you with?” Julian asked politely.

“I made a promise to you, if you remember, Doctor Bashir.”

It took Julian a moment to recall what the man was referring to. 

“Oh! I remember.” Julian acknowledged.

“I promised that I would show you, a month into your stay, just how much of a difference your contribution had made. Now, I’m aware it’s been over a month, but this outbreak had to be dealt with.”

Julian forestalled any further explanation with a flick of his fingers.

“There’s no need for justifications, truly. An emergency takes precedence.”

Ghemor gave him an affable smile.

“If you would follow me, there’s a lot to see…”

Julian fell into step with the man and inquired,

“Where are we going?”

Ghemor’s voice was clear and the man appeared satisfied,

“Our first stop is the Barvonok Central Hospital.”

“The one Parmak works at?” Julian asked.

“Indeed.” Ghemor asserted. “We may cross paths with him, though I hadn’t planned on it.”

“Who are we meeting, then?”

Ghemor gave him a wry smile.

“We’re meeting one of the Department Heads. You’ll see.”

Julian nodded and followed.

It seemed like he wouldn’t be seeing Elim quite as fast as he’d hoped.

“Will Elim be meeting us there?” He asked hopefully.

Ghemor regarded him curiously.

“No, Bashir, he will not.”

The statement was surprising, not only for the certainty with which it was uttered but also for the strange way it was phrased.

“Do I dare ask why?” Julian looked to Ghemor warily.

The Cardassian seemed unperturbed by his questioning.

“Think about it, Bashir. I know you’ve learned quite a bit about our culture from Elim.”

Julian made a noise of clear frustration.

“Not by design,” He grumbled. 

Ghemor laughed.

“Try anyway.”

Julian went quiet and pondered the issue. Different possibilities sprang forth in his mind. 

Clearly, having Elim along was in some way detrimental to Ghemor’s plan. Why though? What about his presence would interfere with Ghemor’s objective? Was it just the fact he preferred Garak to stay in the shadows, where he was most useful? 

“Wait… People are starting to hear about Elim, aren’t they?”

Ghemor’s smile was encouraging.

“And if they are aware of his efforts to get the city up and running… It would make sense they would… Latch onto him, so to speak, if they saw him?”

Ghemor grinned.

The puzzle pieces were falling into place.

“And if they did… If they focused on him, then they wouldn’t…”

Oh. Now he could see what Ghemor was trying to do. He narrowed his eyes at the man.

“Why are you trying to boost my status with others? Surely you know I care little about that.”

Ghemor looked at him indulgently.

“To think in terms of what you want… How Federation of you, Doctor. Have you forgotten where you are?”

Julian halted at that.

He was on Cardassia.

And Cardassians didn’t think in terms of what they wanted, but rather… what the society as a whole needed.

“You need me… to have good standing… Why?”

“Surely you can divine that too, Bashir.” Ghemor’s eyes held a challenge.

The smug little smile reminded him of Elim. 

Julian marshaled his thoughts. Ghemor clearly had a plan in mind, something big which hinged on him being… accepted? Liked? Acknowledged? It could be any of those, really. 

What purpose could that serve?

If Garak’s own standing would somehow detract from-

“You want to play up my role in this, don’t you?” Julian stated shrewdly.

“Play… up?”

“Uh, over-emphasize?”

Ghemor made a dismissive hand gesture.

“No, your contribution shall not be blown out of proportion, merely properly acknowledged.”

Julian tried to think of a broader context. What did he represent? A human… a doctor. A Federation officer… Wait. Did anyone here even know he was Starfleet? He hadn’t worn his uniform in weeks…

“Are people aware that I am Starfleet?”

Ghemor suddenly seemed just a touch self-satisfied.

“Only those who need know, do.”

And suddenly Julian knew exactly what Ghemor was planning on doing.

“You want to present me as… what? A human doctor who selflessly came to help Cardassia in her hour of need? Isn’t that a bit… juvenile?”

“Oh, that’s only part of it.” Ghemor declared in a suspiciously chipper manner.

“And the other part?” Julian inquired.

“It’s nothing that isn’t true, Bashir… You are a human doctor who came to Cardassia of your own accord, brought by a desire to rekindle a relationship with a Cardassian man who used to be your friend and is now happily your lover, and soon to be much more than that. In the process of courting him, you have somehow managed to fall in love with Cardassia itself and the plight of its people – so much so, that you will permanently move here and raise a family. Have I spoken any untruths so far?”

It sounded so saccharine and ridiculous when put in those terms, but Julian couldn’t argue with any of it. Ghemor must have taken his silence as acquiescence and an invitation to continue.

“Furthermore, once you arrived, you immediately offered your expertise in service to the ailing; working as a volunteer for the demanding and uncompromising Head of the Research Center, Zeyem. Then you assisted in the operating room at Barvonok, saving an orphan child, whom you are considering adopting, last I heard… How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a terribly contrived plot out of a holo-romance series.” Julian stated flatly.

Ghemor chuckled.

“That may be so, but it paints a rather idyllic picture doesn’t it?”

“And Elim said you lacked theatricality…” Julian snorted.

Ghemor looked at him and gave him a calculated little smile.

“Who do you think came up with the narrative?”

Julian’s eyes went wide.

Wait.

Wait a damn second.

He cried out, “This was Elim’s plan?!”

Ghemor gave a soothingly deep laugh, then squeezed his forearm briefly.

“He’s always had flair, it must be said.” 

Julian couldn’t believe his ears. 

He was, what, being peddled here? Displayed as a hopeless romantic willing to abandon his old life to devote it to Cardassia, all for the sake of the man he loved-

Crap.

How could he hold this against Elim when it was actually the truth? It may be a ploy to gain sympathy or standing, but that didn’t make it any less true. Despite any calculations, everything Ghemor had mentioned had basis in reality. 

“So, you essentially want to establish me as some kind of… what? Noble alien?”

The politician smiled enigmatically.

“I want to show them that there are those in the Quadrant willing to extend a helping hand, unmotivated by politics or greed. I wish to demonstrate that even a ruined Cardassia is capable of enchanting a stranger. What better way is there to bridge our differences with the rest of the Universe, than by witnessing new growth out of the rubble of the old world?”

Spoken so passionately, with such sincerity and earnestness, even Julian bought it. 

“We didn’t plan for this, Bashir.” Alon spoke with honesty, his brilliant eyes gleaming with inner strength. “When you arrived, I’d merely hoped for a way to get our voice heard in the Federation. Instead, you surprised me. I hear murmurs of a polite human from people all over the City. I notice gratitude, bewilderment and a curious amount of acceptance. Of course, there are malcontents as well, grumbling about aliens being allowed free rein, infecting us with their values, yet your actions quash those rumors. You have adopted Cardassian mannerisms, you are learning our language and you shall enjoin with a Cardassian – all proof of your dedication and duty to your chosen mate and his home.”

“Oh?” Julian grumbled, “Isn’t that the first step of infiltration? Surely I’m here to destroy all traditional Cardassian values…”

Ghemor smirked.

“Most definitely… Yet you may also be viewed as a symbol of hope. A man who asks for nothing – no diplomatic concessions, no privileges, no bribe – merely the chance to serve the people. An alien who seems to understand our customs and abides by them without a fuss; dutifully and respectfully.”

Julian frowned.

“You make me sound… Like an anomaly. Surely they’ve been other inter-racial couples before!”

“Naturally, Bashir,” Ghemor conceded, “Yet none received such attention. The Union would never advertize such… _fringe_ cases. Now, however, in the wake of the Dominion War, people have lost faith in the old ways.”

“Some,” Julian opined, “Others only cling to them even more desperately.”

“That is true,” Ghemor conceded graciously, “All the more reason for us to convince as many as we can of the advantages this new path offers. Understand, old options are no longer available to us – we must be pragmatic. Where weapons have failed us, words may prevail. Luckily for us, we are quite skilled in the art of conversation.”

Julian shook his head and asked incredulously,

“Are you really going to use me as some… poster boy for the Reunion Project?”

“If by _poster boy_ you mean a shining example of interspecies cooperation on a small scale, then yes.”

Julian huffed.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” 

Ghemor gave him a disarmingly charming smile.

“None whatsoever, Bashir. You wouldn’t want to disappoint Elim, would you?”

Julian rolled his eyes and knew when he was beat.

Whatever Elim’s long game was, he wouldn’t ruin any carefully laid plans. Naturally, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t give the ex-spy a piece of his mind later…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneaky Cardassians! 
> 
> Tell me what you think of the song and the chapter!
> 
> Love you all~


	82. A Difference a Man Makes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghemor takes Julian to Barvonok Hospital to meet with one of the Department Heads.
> 
> It turns out to be someone Julian knows.
> 
> He is shaken by the difference his arrival has made.

Julian realized he was in the presence of a celebrity. As soon as they passed a gaggle of Cardassians, there were whispers and excited chatter. He wondered whether Ghemor could discern what they were saying, as he simply acknowledged them and went about his business with a slight smile. So far, most mutterings seemed to be in the same vein and regarded Ghemor as some sort of folk hero, almost. A down-to-earth, honest, upstanding bloke. Julian wondered how much of that image was a calculation. A decent part of it, he reckoned. Ghemor seemed like the kind of man who could infer what people wanted and give them exactly that. 

Once they entered the Barvonok Hospital (this time using the main entrance), Ghemor was suddenly more business-like, although his expression remained amiable. He greeted the man behind the reception desk and stated that he had an appointment with Head of the Surgical Department. The receptionist was eyeing Julian curiously, but schooled his expression, whether out of politeness or respect for Ghemor, Julian couldn’t tell.

After being given instructions to the Head’s office, Ghemor thanked the man and Julian performed the obligatory gestures of gratitude.

It had to be done. 

Impoliteness was an affront to Cardassians and Julian supposed that this was likely the main reason why aliens were viewed so unfavorably. Naturally, it hadn’t occurred to them that their unwillingness to share their culture may have had a hand in that. They just _expected_ you to know. Just like Dejar. 

Perhaps they viewed it differently, as in – if you are on Cardassia Prime, do as Cardassians do. Of course, Julian had no issues with that, but a manual would have been nice! 

Perhaps… he could write one? A handbook on their customs and social interactions… Maybe one day. It could be a fun little side-project. 

Ghemor walked through the Hospital with such poise and confidence that nobody even questioned his presence there. His appearance was almost like a cloaking device extending over Julian, protecting him from dubious looks. It was a nifty trick, actually. 

After some meandering through the corridors, Ghemor halted in front of a door and pressed the panel next to it. The doors slid open and his companion walked in without preamble. Julian followed and was greeted by a vaguely familiar face. Her smile was polite, yet nothing more than that.

“Representative Ghemor, welcome. Have a seat. I regret that is the extent of my hospitality today.”

Ghemor merely smiled affably and took the proffered seat.

“Not at all, your valuable time is accommodation enough.”

Julian inclined his head and looked to the ground for the briefest of moments, to acknowledge her seniority in his profession, as well as her rank as a Department Head, then seated himself as well.

“Doctor Bashir, I am pleased to see you again in less strenuous circumstances.”

He was slightly surprised to note that she legitimately seemed happy to see him, and wholeheartedly returned the sentiment.

“Likewise, Doctor Hejod. I am unsure, should I address you as Department Head, or-?”

She huffed softly and sat down, relaxing imperceptibly.

“No need. The way you addressed me is perfectly appropriate. We are fellow professionals, after all. Now, what may I do for you, gentlemen?”

With the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of reassessment in Ghemor’s eyes, but it was gone as briefly as it had appeared, melting into a serious, yet amiable expression.

“I had promised Doctor Bashir I would show him what a difference a man can make. Do you have the data you’ve been asked for when the shipment was initially made?”

Hejod made an almost imperceptible wave of her chin indicating she had and extended her hand to give Ghemor the PADD when he stopped her and said softly, 

“I’m not the one who needs to see it.”

Hejod just froze for a moment and then her face smoothed out and she handed the PADD to Julian.

Visibly confused by the proceedings, he took the offered PADD with a muffled, “Thank you…” and began to read it.

A list of medical supplies and compounds, three portable generators, a crate of water rations, two crates of dry rations… And that stardate… All familiar. As they should be, he supposed, since he was the one who brought them, yet never saw them delivered because Elim had seen fit to beam him down to Zeyem’s office like a piece of cargo. He had been so angry and indignant when it happened… Now, the memory was a fond one. If someone had told the Julian back then that the formidable Head of Research would become a mother figure, he would have declared them clinically insane. Also, if someone had told him he would be moving to Cardassia permanently after realizing he was madly in love with Elim and planning to adopt two children… Wow. 

And all it took was five weeks. 

Five weeks for his life to change completely. 

Five weeks to build the foundations for a family…

He looked at the PADD and in the numbers he saw – thousands of people fed, water rations distributed to discharged patients, hundreds saved by the emergency power from the generators that kept the respirators working, and well over two thousand people who had benefitted from the medications alone… 

Where before that number would have been lost in the sheer volume of the populace, now he felt the weight of that keenly. 

He’d saved hundreds of lives by bringing that single shipment. 

What had begun as an afterthought almost, a superficial desire to bring _something_ along to justify his presence on Cardassia, ended up taking on a life of its own. Julian stared at the information and trembled, swallowing in a futile attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. When he’d first arrived, he had been seeking forgiveness, redemption and something his mind had been unable to grasp altogether.

_ What had I been seeking? _

As he stared at the numbers, tears gathered in his eyes and he was helpless to stop them. 

This had always been about Garak, hadn’t it?

That’s how it started, with the man’s letter.

And now…

Now it ended – with a list of lives he had touched just by coming here and bringing some stuff along. 

And among the numbers, an entry stood out - a Cardassian boy of ten; in for multiple stab wounds to the abdomen, who received an extensive anti-inflammatory treatment in post-operative care.

Julian sobbed and covered his mouth with his hand. 

If he hadn’t come to Cardassia, Rekat never would have made it.

If he hadn’t brought supplies…

All of his and Hejod’s efforts in the operating room would have been in vain… Elim’s blood…

Elim’s precious blood-

With trembling hands, he put the PADD on the desk and buried his face in his hands.

If he had stayed on DS9…

Rekat would have died at the age of ten… 

What would Phela have done all alone? 

And Elim…

His precious, wonderful Elim… could have bled out saving a boy that was beyond saving.

Just like Merur had said.

“I- Representative Ghemor, what is going on?”

Uncharacteristically, the politician’s voice sounded unsure.

“I’m afraid I don’t know…”

Julian felt a hand on his forearm.

“Bashir, what’s the matter?”

Julian wondered that himself.

This grim scenario hadn’t come to pass. 

Brushing his tears away, he straightened in his chair and cleared his throat.

“I am sorry you had to see this, I am aware it’s probably a shameful display by Cardassian standards… I just saw Rekat’s name on that list and remembered… I could have lost everything that day, without even knowing it.”

“You’ve never lost a patient before?” Hejod asked incredulously.

Julian huffed gently.

“I’ve lost my share, as most doctors do, especially in a war or during an outbreak, but…”

“Oh, I see.” Ghemor stated calmly. “Doctor Bashir intends to adopt the boy he operated on, unless I’m mistaken? His sister too, by the look of things.”

Hejod’s eyes went wide.

“You would take them from Cardassia?” Her face fell and softened in defeat. “Naturally… They would be better off someplace safer…”

“No, you misunderstood, I wouldn’t dream of tearing them away from their people and culture, no matter how abysmally they may have been treated here-“ He caught himself getting riled up and sighed softly. “No…that doesn’t matter anymore. Cardassia stands at a crossroads. You, Doctor, are living proof that things have changed. You operated on a scruffy orphan boy who other doctors would have left to die and I must thank you for saving my family that day.”

Hejod’s confusion dissipated, but in turn she looked vaguely uncomfortable. 

“On Cardassia, that requires no special thanks, Doctor Bashir. I was merely doing my job.”

Julian turned to Ghemor.

“How would one formally express gratitude for such a thing?”

The politician blinked and then mellowed.

“You would rise and bow at the waist, place the palms of your hands like this,” And he demonstrated the gesture of palms lying over one another horizontally, touching the chest, “Then utter your words of thanks and remain that way for a moment before resuming a normal stance.”

Julian nodded gravely, turned his translator off and got up. He looked at the woman who saved his little guide and allowed the feeling of profound humility and gratitude to fill him, then moved his hands to the required position and bowed as indicated.

In his best Kardassi, he enunciated clearly:

“_For saving the mirror or my soul and my son to be, I thank you.”_

The words lingered for a moment in the sudden oppressive silence of the room and then straightened out.

Hejod seemed speechless and Julian let his eyes speak for him.

“_Mirror of your soul… Does he understand the –“ Concept_, Julian assumed she said.

“_He understands, as -_transparent?-_ as Morfan, his --- _an indication of past tense-_teaching him Kardassi.”_

_ “Learned Kardassi? _ _ From his ---?” _

_ “I swear to the truth,”  _ Ghemor spoke in his soothing rumble, “_Wishing to_ _enjoin and grow roots.”_

It was true. 

He would…

It was real now, wasn’t it?

A family.

He’d promised to return from DS9 and adopt the children.

He would have to marry Elim for that, though. 

A wide grin blossomed on his face.

Perhaps his beloved tailor wouldn’t mind being proposed to the human way – what with dropping on one knee and offering a ring - oh! - with a polished obsidian stone on it as a little inside joke, perhaps? He could already imagine the eye-roll and the scathing remark, followed by a theatrical sigh, grudging acceptance and then a lovingly soft look… 

Assured he’d gotten his point across, he turned his translator back on for the sake of expediency.

“I hope I didn’t offend you with my flimsy and inadequate mastery of your wonderful language.” He punctuated this with a gentle tilt of his head and watched Hejod’s expression turn into what he could only describe as bemused.

“I find it admirable that you are taking the effort to learn it at all! With the wonders of modern technology and the accessibility of Universal Translator technology, most people wouldn’t bother. Also, it doesn’t seem like an easy task for your vocal apparatus, yet I understood you very well.”

“You are very kind.” Julian accepted the praise as graciously as he could muster.

“Let me guess, Bashir,” Alon said in a teasing manner, “Elim has been scaring you with awful comparisons?”

Julian snorted.

“You bet he has. His latest gem was that I had a voice as pleasant as a screech crake.”

Ghemor burst into laughter.

“I’m guessing you know that’s an idiom, as well as a terrible exaggeration, right?”

Julian flicked his fingers dismissively.

“Of course I know. It’s also Elim’s way of flirting with me. I’m used to it.” He finished with a grin.

“Your chosen is a man?” Hejod asked in bewilderment.

“Well… yes.” Julian said, wondering what the matter was all of a sudden. “I thought you knew? I mean, he was in the operating room, giving blood for Rekat…”

If there ever was an utterly dumbfounded Cardassian, he was currently looking at one.

Kind of weirded out, Julian turned to Ghemor.

“What have I said now? Is there a problem with me wishing to marry Garak?”

The man was looking at him like Christmas had come early. If Cardassians gave a shit about Christmas, that is. 

“It depends on who you ask, I suppose.” Alon said diplomatically.

Oh, was this a part of the plan? Playing up his dumb-human-lost-in-translation game?

All innocence, he turned to Hejod and asked,

“Is there an issue with enjoining with a man on Cardassia?”

With a blink, Hejod rallied remarkably quickly and said in a pleasant (and seemingly genuine) voice,

“The State doesn’t officially endorse such unions. Two men may form a civil partnership for cohabitation purposes, which some use merely to pool resources and support one another. It’s a popular measure with the service class and the State doesn’t especially care whether the parties have any other… reasons for forming such a partnership. It has similar legal ramifications as enjoining between a man and a woman, but it is distinctly separate.”

Julian frowned.

“Are you telling me that I cannot legally get enjoined to the man I love because of a stupid _technicality_?!”

Hejod seemed confused by his outburst.

“It’s just a difference of terminology, for all intents and purposes they are the sa-“

“It’s not the same!” Julian cried out. “Why make a distinction at all? People should have the freedom to marry whoever they please!”

“Bashir,” Ghemor appealed to his reason, “It’s an outdated law that nobody ever cared enough to fix…”

Julian looked at him in outrage.

“Just like a law that prevents single parents from adopting children?? Who in their right mind throws away innocent children for the perceived transgressions or sheer bad luck of their parents?! How are they at fault and why should they suffer for it??”

“Bashir…” Ghemor’s voice softened, “You know we are trying to make significant changes to that law… A bill is being drafted for it.”

Stuck in self-righteous anger, Julian found it impossible to stop.

“And while you’re taking your sweet time, how many orphans are dying because doctors are refusing treatment, huh? How many fall prey to adults who see them as disposable?! Rekat would have died if Elim, Hejod and I hadn’t been there and nobody would have been held accountable!”

Hejod said icily, “Their status as lowest class of citizen is a stigma they carry forever. Perhaps you should have started from there, Representative Ghemor.”

Julian’s glare was fixed on Alon, who sighed deeply and all but slumped in his chair.

It was a _very_ convincing act.

“There is significant opposition to this kind of fundamental shift. I would personally like nothing better, but the fact is – I cannot. If I tried, the bill would never pass. The only thing we _can_ reasonably do is to incentivize adoption as much as possible – speed up the process, allow widowers and single parents to adopt and yes –same-sex partnerships would be included. We can let the judgmental opposition underestimate the measures and scoff at them while we quietly find homes for as many children as possible. We have seen people taking in orphans after the Fire – in significant numbers. Some of the individuals did so out of grief, for having lost their own children, or out of compassion. The War and the Fire made orphans out of many more… Dying households will scramble to get a chance to adopt, and they will likely try to find orphans left behind by another prestigious house… And while they are busy with that, we shall find a place for the rest. Once they are fully integrated, public perception will invariably change with it. If we are lucky, the very institution will vanish in a generation or two.”

With that, Ghemor looked at Bashir with dignity.

“Would that suffice, Doctor Bashir?”

Startled, Julian realized he fell right into the man’s trap.

He had known in advance there was an agenda, but it never crossed his mind-

Wait a minute… What if this had never been about him? With an ever growing suspicion, he looked at Hejod and realized she seemed shaken for some reason.

Why _did_ she try so hard to save an orphan boy? Julian had assumed she was just a decent human being, but that was fundamentally wrong, as she wasn’t a _human_ being. She was Cardassian.

And a certain level of subterfuge was expected, even with individuals who weren’t sly former Obsidian Order agents.

Hejod had a stake in this. What kind, he didn’t know.

But he bet Elim did. Or Ghemor.

“Pass that bill, Representative Ghemor. This hospital will _not_ refuse treatment to orphans.”

“And neither will the Research Centre under Head Zeyem!” Julian exclaimed passionately.

Ghemor gave Julian a light smile.

“Has Head Zeyem authorized you to speak in her name? You are still a volunteer there, remember?”

Julian scoffed.

“Moje may be stern, but she isn’t a monster. If you don’t believe me, ask her yourself.”

Ghemor seemed surprised.

“I wasn’t aware you were on such good terms with Head Zeyem.”

Julian flushed.

“She is the most brilliant researcher I’ve ever had the pleasure of working alongside with, and the most exacting boss as well. If you knew my superior officer from DS9, you would know those are some big shoes to fill!”

Hejod’s face turned speculative.

“Superior officer? Are you with Starfleet?”

Julian wondered whether he messed up any plans by blurting that last bit out.

“Uh, yes. I’m the Chief Medical Officer aboard Deep Space Nine, or what used to be Terok Nor. Though, I wonder whether I might actually lose my job over this…”

“I’m confused,” Hejod stated, “I thought the Federation wouldn’t be sending any personnel…”

“Oh, they didn’t send me.” Julian said sheepishly, “I am on shore leave. I’m a bit of a workaholic and rarely take time off, so I decided to visit Elim and stay for two months. When I brought the supplies with me, on my own initiative, I never thought…” Here he laughed self-deprecatingly, “I am often accused of leaping before I think. If someone told the Julian from five weeks ago that I would find a family here… I would have dismissed them as crazy. Now, though…”

“Now you would rather stay on Cardassia.” Ghemor said softly.

“You know I would… But I must go back and ask for a transfer to Cardassia, beg for a permanent arrangement. I could do a lot of good here, far more than on DS9.”

“Bashir… Your request could be denied.” Ghemor said reasonably.

Julian smiled.

“Several people told me the same thing… So I’ll tell you what I told them – if they deny my request for a transfer, I’ll tender my resignation.”

Ghemor’s eyes went wide.

“No need to look at me like that… Even if I leave Starfleet, I will advocate for Cardassia relentlessly. I will also need your help assembling a proposition for a joint terraforming operation – if the Federation sees serious effort on your part to reach out and offer cooperation, I am certain they would feel reassured. A wounded Cardassia is in nobody’s best interest. I want to see my new home bloom, Ghemor. Will you help me?”

Hejod made a little incredulous sound.

Julian sighed.

“I know it’s an idealist’s dream, Zeyem called me an _air man_ for it, but-“

“Of course I will help, Bashir. I have mentioned our need for self-sustainability previously, if you recall.”

Ghemor’s eyes burned with determination and Julian noticed some reservations Hejod seemed to have towards the politician thawing. Then she spoke in an even tone.

“Let me see if I understood you correctly, Doctor Bashir – you will be enjoining with Elim Garak?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Julian said calmly.

“And you plan on relocating to Cardassia permanently?”

“Correct.”

“You wish to start a family by adopting two children?”

Julian’s face softened at the lovely picture that made. Elim puttering around the garden and Julian reading to the kids or playing hide and seek… Did Cardassians even play such a game? He could show them how…

“Rekat and Phela, yes.”

Hejod stared at him for a long moment.

“Do you want a job in my department?” She offered with a grin, “Or has Head Zeyem sunk her claws in you too deeply?”

Julian laughed in delight.

“I am afraid I’ve grown quite close to my colleagues at the Research Center. In case Starfleet kicks me out, I fear my sentimentality would take me back there.” Julian said lightly, “Though, I appreciate the offer.” He emphasized his point by adding a polite incline of his head.

Hejod sighed in defeat.

“I know better than to pit myself against Mount Zeyem…” With that, she rose to her feet. “Gentlemen, I am afraid that is all the time I have to spare – my duties await.”

Julian and Ghemor got up as well.

“Thank you very much for your time, Department Head Hejod,” Alon stated formally.

“I consider it time well-spent. I hope to see you again, Doctor Bashir. Representative Ghemor.”

She had acknowledged them both, but Julian had the distinct impression those warm sentiments didn’t extend to the politician.

Just as they were about to leave the room, Hejod’s voice drifted in.

“Doctor Bashir?”

“Yes?” Julian asked, swerving around only to witness her half-bowing to him, with eyes lowered to the ground.

“Thank you for your help and may your union be blessed.”

Dumbfounded, Julian simply nodded in acknowledgment.

***

When he got back home, it was already past midnight and he was exhausted beyond belief. 

He was left with so many impressions to sift through.

After Barvonok, Ghemor had taken him to one of the Replimat terminals in the Torr Sector, as well as to the Water Reservoir where the purifier he’d brought was installed. The hospitals were reporting a significant decrease in dehydration, and a slight improvement to cases of severe malnutrition. The replicators were working practically non-stop, providing vital replacement parts for the damaged power grid and other vital infrastructure.

He had made people’s lives noticeably easier by bringing his shipment along. It was undeniable.

Still, the image that stuck with him through the day was the PADD Hejod had given him, with the information on Rekat.

“You seem tired, my dear.” Garak commented lightly and Julian shuffled closer, all but sagging against him.

“I’ve walked at least fifteen kilometers today… Ghemor didn’t even break a sweat, the bastard!”

Elim laughed and held him.

“To be fair, he is better suited to this climate.”

Julian gave a weak laugh that transformed into a yawn. 

“Yeah, yeah… Mock the poor, sweltering human…”

Elim played at being affronted.

“Mock you, my dear Doctor? I would _never_…”

Julian dignified that with an incredulous stare. When Elim leaned in, smirking, Julian’s eyes fluttered closed and he melted into the languid kiss. He was indescribably sleepy but that didn’t mean he would refuse such sweet intimacy. The exchange of affection was unhurried and deeply satisfying. Julian sighed in contentment.

“You should sleep, Julian.” His beloved suggested gently.

“Mhm…” He agreed. “Will you join me?”

Elim’s put upon face was so over-the top fake it made Julian snort.

“If you insist…”

“Oh, yes…” Julian murmured, “Doctor’s orders…”

“I would never dare disobey my physician…” Elim said suggestively and Julian squirmed in his arms.

“Mmm… I’m too tired, Elim… Maybe in the morning?”

The Cardassian chuckled and caressed his neck.

“I seem to have made an insatiable monster out of you, my dear.”

Julian rolled his eyes, sighing theatrically.

“As if you mind, seductive bastard…”

His lover merely laughed at that and gave him a tender, lingering kiss.

And when they lay in bed, wrapped up in each other, safe and snug, Julian sighed happily and drifted into a deep and restful sleep…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julian has a hard time realizing his self-worth. I think Cardassia is very good for him! 
> 
> Tell me any of your thoughts, as your opinions and feedback give me life!


	83. Elim's Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian asks Elim what the deal with Hejod was.

Next morning over breakfast, Julian remembered the little plot of Elim's regarding Hejod.

“Elim… What was the angle with Hejod yesterday?”

The former spy looked at him over the rim of his cup of tea and grinned wryly.

“You clearly have a theory, my dear. Feel free to share it…”

Julian was unimpressed.

“She clearly dislikes Ghemor, or politicians in general… For some reason, she seemed more respectful towards me than towards Alon, which is strange because most people I met yesterday seem to adore the guy. He has a real folk hero kind of vibe going on, thought I bet it’s just a strategy to him… Anyways, Hejod… She is very pro-orphan rights. I may not know why, but I bet you do.”

Elim smirked and his blue eyes glinted with mischief.

“I may or may not have run across some interesting information when I accessed the Order’s database…”

Julian sighed, shaking his head.

“Why am I not surprised? Still, why would you research her at all? She seems like a good sort.”

“Dear Doctor, how many physicians do you think would have operated on an orphan, especially one as badly injured as Rekat?”

Julian frowned and concluded, “Not many.”

“Not many, hah!” Elim snorted, “That’s a generous estimation. Orphans, at least before they gain a profession, are essentially worthless in the eyes of the State.”

“That’s horrible!” Julian exclaimed.

“It’s not stellar, no.” Garak agreed, “So a sight of a doctor so passionately adamant in saving an orphan boy… It makes one wonder where such an attachment comes from. Personal experience of some sort? Perhaps a sordid affair resulting in an abandoned child? A childhood friend whose parents met a grisly fate, leaving behind children whose comfortable lives abruptly ended?”

“She didn’t seem guilty…” Julian muttered. Her motives had seemed… purer than that.

Elim smiled.

“And you would be right. The truth is far less cynical than I.”

Momentarily surprised by the uncharacteristic admission, Julian observed the former operative.

“Well, what have you found out?”

With a self-satisfied little smile, Elim replied.

“It would seem that a certain Dera’a, a particularly bright and promising orphaned girl got adopted by an ambitious family who seemed unable to have children of their own. They then pushed the girl into a promising career, only to suddenly bear a son when she started the Medical Institute. Overjoyed, they funneled all their resources and effort into their new heir, relegating their acquired daughter to a side role of boosting their family name and status. It would also seem they never made a marriage match for her either – likely to minimize her claim to their fortune.”

Julian was aghast.

“Said son proved himself a major disappointment, as he, no doubt pampered beyond belief by elderly parents, got involved in several minor scandals of kanar-fueled disorderly conduct, public indecency, as well as a shocking diplomatic incident involving a Romulan Senator…”

“I will probably regret asking, but… What happened with the Senator?”

Elim’s eyes glinted deviously.

“Oh, the Senator got disposed of by the Tal Shiar. After all, leaked footage of intercourse with a Cardassian boy barely of age hardly looks good on any politician’s resume.”

Julian sputtered.

“It also proved quite detrimental to the family’s ambitions… With their heir so utterly disgraced, they retreated from the public eye and moved to Lakarian City to live out their retirement in peace.” Then his face took on a more somber expression. “And we all know what happened to Lakarian City.”

Julian had read the reports. The Dominion was ruthless in its approach, even towards their supposed allies. Damned Dukat. He ruined everything he touched.

“All right… That explains why she has a soft spot for orphans, but not why it was important to get her on our side, so… What exactly was your plan, Elim? Also, don’t think I haven’t noticed how you left Ghemor in the dark concerning some things! He knew we wished to adopt, yet he seemed completely surprised by my terraforming project idea.”

Garak laughed and lifted his cup in the mockery of a toast.

“You have learned, my dear! I am impressed!”

“Hardy har har, Elim. Very funny.”

Elim’s expression softened and he spoke in a sober tone. 

“I had identified her as a potential ally for our faction during the operation.” Garak stated and Julian almost snorted in disbelief. Even a dying Elim was a scheming Elim, it seemed. Crazy Cardassian.

“Kelas told me what he knew about her and brought some hospital gossip concerning Hejod to my attention. She is dedicated, professional and seems like an astute individual. What makes her especially interesting is the fact she is romantically involved with the Head of Barvonok Hospital, a man who is notoriously reclusive. He micro-manages his hospital to an impressive degree, but refuses meeting anyone – even the other Hospital Heads.”

“You wanted access to him?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Elim allowed, “We don’t actually care what he does, as long as we can at least attempt to sway him using a more sympathetic person.”

“Well, Hejod stated quite vehemently that the hospital would not refuse treatments to orphans.”

“Interesting…” 

“Well, thanks for clearing that up, Elim… The skimmer will be here soon, though.” Julian drank the rest of his Tarkalean tea and got up.

“No goodbye kiss?” Elim pouted.

Julian shook his head, grinning, and sauntered towards him, splaying a palm over Elim’s chest.

“I suppose you deserve one for being so wonderfully forthcoming when I asked…”

Garak was busy staring at his lips and Julian smirked.

“My dear, had I known honesty had such a wonderful effect on you, I would have volunteered information way earlier in our acquaintance…”

Elim’s hands came to rest on his waist and Julian leaned in, intent on a brief and simple kiss, but it seemed the tailor had other ideas. There was a hint of Tarkalean tea on the man’s tongue and Julian groaned, attempting to extricate himself; even as he continued the kiss, quite unable to resist. At this point, he was fairly certain he was hopelessly addicted to Elim. The way he was held, touched, kissed… As time went on, it felt almost as if he was falling deeper and deeper, lost in the man he loved.

As soon as the sound of engines crept up on them, Elim released him.

Flushed and aroused, Julian looked at him crossly.

“I will pay you back for this when I come home, just you wait!”

“I shall await your triumphant return, my love.” Elim teased with a mocking little bow.

Julian scoffed, grabbed his bag and ran out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is everyone still alive? :)
> 
> My writer's block has evolved into a roadblock, spikes and all... Hopefully, this bit of scheming and fluff made you happy! 
> 
> In the next chapter, Julian calls the O'Briens!


	84. Telling the O'Briens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian calls Miles and Keiko to give them the news.
> 
> Their reactions are... in character.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 88 has finally yielded! I hope the rest will flow easier...

Realizing he had some spare time while his samples were being analyzed, Julian decided it would be a good time to call Miles and see what he was up to. At this time of day, the whole family should be home.

After a few moments, the call came through and Miles' weary face showed up on screen.

“Why the bloody hell woul\- Julian??”

“Yes, it’s me,” Julian chuckled, “Why the terrible surprise?”

“Well, excuse me from being wary of a bloody unexpected call from bloody _Cardassia, _of all places!!”

Julian started laughing.

“What are you even doing over there??” Miles’ harried voice drifted through.

“Shore leave!” Julian said enthusiastically. 

Miles gave him an incredulous look and snorted.

“Shore leave…You moran. On that heap of rubble?”

“Well, I’m volunteering at a Research Center, helping out-“

“Of course you are. And Ezri let you?”

Julian blushed. It would seem the news hadn’t reached them yet.

“I, uh… She broke up with me, Miles.”

For a few moments, the Irishman was staring at him slack-jawed and then, predictably, exploded.

“If you’d a told me you were going to Cardassia for shore leave, I might’ve dumped you too!”

Julian sighed.

“It wasn’t that… I… Garak sent me a letter, over three months ago. I didn’t know what to reply, it all seemed inadequate next to what he’d written… So I gathered some supplies, arranged for a two month leave-“

“Two months??! You’ll be there for two months?!”

“No,” Julian said significantly, “I’ve been here just over five weeks, and when that elapses, I’m going back to DS9.”

“As you should!” Miles shuddered and tried to get his bugging eyes under control.

“Miles… Uh… Is Keiko home? I’d like her to be present for what I’m about to tell you.”

His friend’s eyes narrowed.

“What have you done now, Julian?” The tone was almost accusatory.

Julian sighed heavily. This would be like pulling teeth, it seemed. 

Well, best get it over with quickly.

“Keiko, honey! Julian wants to tell us something!”

Julian took a deep breath, thinking about his golden tendrils. He loved this man who had been his stalwart friend for years. Still, the distance reduced even such strong bonds; eroding them slowly. He vowed to make more of an effort to talk to Miles in the future. After all, depending on the format of Cardassian wedding ceremonies, he would need a best man, wouldn’t he? Or at the very least a witness!

Keiko’s brilliantly smiling face showed up on the screen as she hovered behind her husband.

“Hi, Julian! It’s so good to see you!”

Julian’s answering smile was beaming.

“Hello, Keiko! It’s wonderful to see you too! I really like what you did with your hair.”

She seemed to visibly melt at that and gave Miles’ shoulder a little swat.

“See, darling? Julian noticed!”

“Only an augmented man could see the difference!”

Keiko’s eyes narrowed.

Julian laughed airily and commented.

“Miles, I believe you’re digging your own grave right now, better quit before it’s any deeper.”

With a final glare at her husband, she turned to Julian with a benevolent smile.

“No matter how many years we spend together, I seem unable to change his insensitive nature… Anyhow, what’s the good news? I assume it’s good, since you seem happy!”

Julian was momentarily floored by her perceptiveness and grinned like only a man deeply in love could.

“First of all, I called for several reasons… I wanted to catch up with you both, since I have become aware that I’m abysmal at long-distance friendships, so… Sorry for that, Miles. I should have told you I was coming to Cardassia… It didn’t even occur to me. I have no excuse.” He finished somberly.

“That’s fine, Julian.” Keiko said soothingly, full of understanding. “We know you are very busy.”

“I wasn’t terribly busy on DS9 – I was bored. No more holoadventures with you, Miles… no darts… Most of the people I liked gone… Just me and Ezri…” He sighed. What a disaster that had turned out to be.

“What happened, Julian?” Miles asked. “Last I saw, you two seemed happy.”

Julian looked his friend in the eye and felt his face contorting in anguish.

“I was happy… Or, at least, I _thought_ I was… Now, though… I can see I wasn’t what Ezri needed. She was struggling with her identity, unable to fully integrate the other hosts… She decided to go her own way, to figure it out without the _zhian’tara_… And I wasn’t… supportive enough. I didn’t know how to be.”

“Oh, Julian… I’m sorry.” Keiko murmured sympathetically.

“No, don’t get the wrong idea; the break-up was all my fault. Ezri was absolutely wonderful, but… She wasn’t what I needed either. I’ve always lived under the delusion that what I wanted and what I needed were one and the same, but they weren’t… I wanted Ezri, but what I actually needed was to be… _seen_. Understood. Acknowledged… I needed a person who could… _love me_… Someone who didn’t care to point out my every inadequacy and flaw and instead would just… hold my hand and let me figure it out for myself without punishing me for every failure. And Ezri… She may have come close, but… she didn’t challenge me the way I desired, and I only compounded her insecurities. We were… a terrible match.”

Keiko’s eyes were pained and soft. 

“Julian… Sometimes, it’s just the timing that’s wrong.”

Perhaps. But that wasn’t the case here. At least not with Ezri.

The timing had been quite terrible with Elim, though… The circumstances, their personal trajectories… 

“The timing _was_ wrong…” He murmured, biting his lower lip. Memories were invading his mind again, Elim’s burning blue eyes and fond little smiles, his warm affection and patience, his scalding kisses and caresses which left him incoherent and grasping… gasping… begging for more, always more-

“Julian, your face is creeping me out.” Miles deadpanned and Keiko swatted his arm again. “Ouch, what did you do that for, woman?!”

Keiko hissed at him, almost inaudibly, “You could try being more supportive of your best friend!”

“I’m plenty supportive! I’m listenin’ aren’t I?” Miles said defensively.

“Please, no need to bicker over me,” Julian grinned at them fondly, “Even though what you’re doing now is essentially flirting by Cardassian standards. Any Cardassian could tell you’re married!”

Keiko bumbled and Miles blushed fiercely.

Julian gazed upon them with fondness. 

“You have a good, strong relationship. You should be proud of it.” He said calmly.

Miles stared at him with a daft expression on his face.

“Who are you and what have you done to Julian?”

Keiko’s ringing laughter broke the tension.

“Can’t you see he’s grown, Miles? It’s a good thing!”

Once again, Julian was left absolutely baffled by her accurate assessment.

“You have a very intelligent wife, Miles. Better keep her happy!”

“Or, what? You’ll steal her away?” The Irishman scoffed.

Keiko rolled her eyes.

“Miles… Don’t be silly. Can’t you see he’s in love?”

Julian’s cheeks flushed. 

“Yeah, right. So soon after a break-up, it’s not like- Julian… Why the hell are you blushing?”

“Ohh! I am right, aren’t I?” Keiko cried out in excitement, “Is it someone on Cardassia??”

Julian huffed and hid his hopelessly infatuated grin behind his palm; knowing his body was betraying him quite eloquently.

Keiko’s mouth dropped open and she squealed a little.

“I know! I know who it is!”

Unable to help himself, Julian started giggling, tears of mirth gathering in his eyes. All this build-up, all these years of emotional blindness and it took Keiko all of five seconds to guess. 

“How could you possibly have guessed that?!” Miles exclaimed, “Unless he’s been in touch with you during these five weeks he says he’s been there?”

“Miles…” Keiko looked at him in fond exasperation. “You are a brilliant engineer. Connect the dots. It’s not that hard.”

While Miles attempted to puzzle it out, Keiko turned to Julian and flashed a dazzlingly warm smile.

“So, who caved in first?” She asked, “I’m guessing it must have been something big to make you open your eyes to the possibility…”

Julian’s smile was radiant.

“I received a letter, well… A memoir, more like.”

“Awwww, that’s so sweet!” Keiko gushed, clearly thrilled.

“Childhood memories, secrets… Deepest thoughts…” Garak had bared his soul to him there. Julian was still feeling very humbled by the gesture and the letter’s contents.

Keiko sighed, “That’s so romantic…”

Julian flushed again.

“I was quite blind to most of the subtext, I’m afraid… It was a concept always just barely out of reach… But I felt I needed to go to Cardassia to finally grasp what’s been eluding me.”

Keiko made a noise of endearment. 

“You fell in love…”

Julian nodded.

“It’s not just that, Keiko… It’s different. It’s… more than that.”

Miles still looked confused and perturbed, though the latter seemed to be winning out slowly.

“Wait, let me see if I got this straight, you were still with Ezri when you left? And then you randomly fell for some Cardassian… floozie?”

Keiko and Julian exchanged amused glances at Miles unknowingly describing Garak so colorfully.

Still, he felt they deserved the truth.

With a sigh, Julian explained:

“Look, I’m not proud of what I did. Ignorance is a poor excuse. I was in a terrible mental state. All of my unaddressed issues had piled up and I was ill-equipped to deal with them. I didn’t allow Ezri to counsel me, nor anyone else. I didn’t feel I _needed_ counseling, since I could compartmentalize it just fine. It’s served me well, this defense mechanism… Until I got to Cardassia. Ruins everywhere… Starving people, our infirmary full of injuries and infections from living in terrible conditions, people literally dying of thirst… Rampant diseases, overworked doctors, empty medicine cabinets… And me, coming there, begging for forgiveness, bringing all my broken pieces with me… Faced with my inner demons, I broke further and finally acknowledged I had a problem. A deep-rooted issue I had avoided for years, an injury I dared not triage because the sight was too gruesome… I was falling apart. The final straw was when Elim decided to give his blood for a Cardassian orphan, dying on an operating table… And I was stuck outside the operating room, watching, terrified for the little boy and even more terrified for my oldest friend, looking ever paler and weaker… They let me assist in the end, mercifully. A Cardassian surgeon and I managed to save the boy, but Elim, he… ” Julian could feel a bout of hyperventilating coming on, so he took a few measured, deep breaths.

“He flatlined. I kept operating and… tuned it out. I tuned it out, but when I was finished, I ran to his side, delirious and uncomprehending. The relief… The sheer _force_ of relief when I was told he was unconscious, yet alive was enough to bring me to my knees. I should have realized then, but it took me a while longer to puzzle it out.”

Keiko hid a little sniffle.

“I cheated on Ezri. I know, I know it’s bad. It went no further than a few kisses, but that was more than enough. I confessed, or rather tried to confess to her… Hah. She guessed it pretty quickly. She said some rather cruel things… I won’t repeat them, there’s no use. Still, even in her anger, she made me realize what I was feeling and just how deep it went. I am very grateful to her for helping me, despite how awfully I’ve treated her… I’m pretty sure she hates me now. And she has every right to. I don’t know how to make it up to her… Perhaps I’ll never be able to.”

“Now, hold on a bloody second, what does an operation have to do with anything?” Miles stated, clearly aggravated by the lack of context. 

“Miles…” Julian murmured gently. “I’m not just _in_ love… I _love_, I adore and I’m absolutely, irrevocably, maddeningly smitten… With Elim Garak.”

The uncharacteristic screech was loud and quite explosive.

“WHAT?!?”

“Miles, now, what have we talked about, honey? Getting upset is bad for your blood pressure-“

“Well, Julian shouldn’t be upsettin’ me then, should he?!”

Keiko’s only answer to that was a poignant stare.

_ Be supportive or I will make you eat something you hate for dinner, _ that glare said.

Keiko was a lovely woman. Julian wondered whether they could have a double dinner date some time in the future. 

“I, uh… If this is enough to spike your blood pressure, the rest of my news won’t make it any better… Perhaps I should stop here and let you get used to the idea-“

“Oh no you don’t! You’re gonna tell me exactly how far this insanity goes!”

“Miles-“

“No! I need to know!”

Julian sighed.

“I know it seems sudden… Hey, I think it’s sudden, too, but I just… He’s always been there for me. Even when I distanced myself, he never stopped caring… He held me in high esteem, no matter how poorly I treated our friendship. He never made me feel small or useless or inadequate. I thought he was irredeemable for a while…. I thought myself morally superior, even as I lived in a web of lies of my own, keeping everyone at bay out of fear they could discover my dirty little secret. I begrudged him his dishonesty while dismissing my own as mere necessity for survival. Well… his lies were the same as mine, because they came from the same source.”

“Julian, I know you get this rosy view of the world when you meet someone, but Garak?? He lies as easily as he breathes! He’s probably manipulating you-“

“No, I’ll stop you right there!” Julian said vehemently. “Why would he manipulate me into making a family with him? We will adopt two Cardassian children, and you can’t tell me it’s some kind of a ploy! You haven’t seen him with them… As a matter of fact, you haven’t seen me with him either!”

“Well, you’ve got to admit this all seems extremely impulsive!” Miles spat, angered and flushed.

“Why does everyone treat me like a stupid child?!” Julian cried out, outraged. “Why can’t you just let me decide for myself, no matter what you feel about it?! Why am I not allowed to make my own mistakes? And also, why can’t you just be happy for me?? I’ve finally found a home in someone, _with _someone – yes, Miles, you know I never had a home, what with my parents constantly moving around! And now, when I’ve finally found a place where I feel accepted and loved, you immediately try to tear it down!” Winded and miserable, he wiped his eyes angrily.

Keiko gave Miles a cross look and then faced Julian, her face smoothing into tenderness and acceptance.

“Well, I am very happy for you, Julian! I think Garak will make a splendid husband and a wonderful father!”

Julian sniffed and brushed the underside of his nose.

“Thank you, Keiko. You’re the first people I told about my plans, by the way.”

Miles looked torn between contriteness and righteous anger. 

“I know you’re protective of Julian, honey, but you could really try to be more understanding. He’s a grown man perfectly capable of making his own choices and you implying anything less is quite demeaning.”

“But- It’s Garak! He could have at least found a nice Cardassian girl!”

Keiko let out an aggravated huff. 

“Really, Miles? You’re going to raise the issue of gender? What’s next – the age difference?”

“As a matter of fact-“

“Shut up, Miles.” Julian cut him off. “If you saw no issue in me dating Ezri, who is several hundred years old and has memories of multiple lifetimes as both a man and a woman, you really have no business bringing Elim’s age into all this.”

“You can’t deny you’re naïve, Julian! Garak has used that against you in the past! Or have you forgotten that he tried to kill you – while merrily attempting genocide?”

Julian forced himself to calm down. Shouting at Miles was pointless. Besides, why was he getting so defensive? He was confident in his choice, happy, content. There was no reason to blow up so spectacularly.

“Miles… Think about it logically. He was alone on board with Dax, Worf, you and a skeleton crew. Don’t you think he could have found some way to incapacitate all of you and proceed with his objective unobstructed? He would have had free access to the Federation medical database, one tiny search could have yielded the information needed to knock out or outright kill a grown Klingon, Trill and some humans with nothing more than a hypospray. Once that was done, he would have had all the time and opportunity to destroy the Founders. But he didn’t… He dallied long enough to get caught. Oh, he may have felt guilty for failing Cardassia, even guilty for considering killing me, but he allowed himself to fail. When he makes up his mind, Garak is one of the most calculated people in existence. If he truly wanted to succeed, don’t you think he would have?”

Miles blinked.

“You’re mad. How can you actually love this man?”

“I love him because I don’t feel like a ruin by his side. I love him because the sight of him fills me with joy and contentment. I love him, Miles, because he is everything I’ve ever wanted, yet searched for in the wrong places and wrong people. And if you cannot respect that, that saddens me. I had hoped you could be my best man, but if you cannot get past this…” Julian shrugged. “I’ll ask Telat.”

“Now wait a damn minute, Julian-“

“Why do you love Keiko, Miles?” Julian asked abruptly.

“What does that-“

“Just answer. Why do you love your wife?”

Miles blinked, tossed a cautious glance Keiko’s way, and clearly bolstered by her little smile, muttered.

“Well… I… She’s… She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Julian smiled at the brief moment of conjugal understanding that passed between his best friend and his wonderful wife.

“I feel the same about Elim, Miles. There’s no difference. I’ve seen you living without Keiko for months at a time… You missed her. You were miserable and irritable and I distinctly remember at least sixteen separate occasions of you sniffing into your whisky and whimpering about your girls being far away.”

“Aww, Miles! You never told me that!”

“You were happy doing your research… I couldn’t ruin that for you by moanin’ about it!”

Keiko embraced her husband and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Oh Miles… You and your ridiculous notions of manliness… What am I to do with you?”

“I only want what you two have, what you’ve found in each other. A life companion who stands by you even when things aren’t ideal. Someone dependable, someone whose love is enduring and unquestionable. Is that so strange?” Julian muttered.

His friend looked at him and sighed deeply.

“This better not be a joke, Julian.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He asked, willing Miles to see exactly what he was feeling. 

“No.” Miles huffed. “You are actually serious…”

“Keiko,” Julian addressed her, “I will need your help with something. Your expertise will prove invaluable.”

“Of course, Julian! Whatever you need, I’m happy to help!”

“I will send you the proposition I’ve been dabbling with so you can give it a look. When you can, get back to me, ok?”

“Sure!” She said warmly.

“Well… I better get back to work; I think my samples have finished analyzing…”

The Irishman gave him a long inscrutable look.

“If he hurts you, I’ll come over there and paint his face in the colors of the Irish flag while he’s sleeping, all right? And I’ll make sure it’s a permanent kind, too!”

Julian burst out laughing and shook his head at his friend’s antics.

“I’ll make sure to warn him so he can stay on his toes.”

“Say hello for me, Julian.” Keiko added kindly.

“Will do. Talk to you both later; give the kids a kiss from me!”

With that, he ended the call.

Well. That could have gone better. 

Still, it went far better than expected. At least Keiko seemed fully on board with his plans. 

An insidious thought resurfaced, though.

_ “…have you forgotten that he tried to kill you – while merrily attempting genocide?” _

Julian felt his rationalization made sense, but… He’d never discussed it with Garak. It was just one of those topics neither of them saw fit to bring up ever again. 

Before they committed to an entire future together… Julian knew this had to be discussed.

No matter how uncomfortable it would be for the both of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was anybody even remotely surprised by the reactions he got? XD


	85. Discussing the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Elim discuss the genocide attempt.

When Julian got home, Elim immediately noticed something was off. It’s not like it took a genius to figure it out, what with a cloud of gloom hanging over his head, but his beloved must have decided that asking was inadvisable, so he merely greeted him with an open, gray palm.

With an audible exhale, Julian approached and placed his palm against Garak’s.

“Bad news, Julian?” Elim asked considerately.

“No, not really,” Julian murmured. “I told the O’Briens about our plans… Miles was less than thrilled, at least at first. You’ll be pleased to know that Keiko was overjoyed, though! She guessed as soon as I told her I was on Cardassia.”

“Smart woman.” Elim said appreciatively. 

“She says hi, by the way.”

“That’s quite considerate of her.”

Julian sighed. There was no reason to beat around the bush, was there?

“Elim… Miles brought something up… To be perfectly honest, it’s not a topic I was ever particularly keen to discuss and was more than happy to leave unaddressed, but…If we are to spend the rest of our lives together… We should resolve it once and for all.”

“I see.” Garak muttered and lowered his palm.

Julian missed the contact already.

“Sit with me? On the cot? I want you near me… I want to hold your hand.”

Elim’s little smile was warm. 

“Of course, my dear.”

Julian reached for Elim’s hand and interlocked their fingers, pulling the man with him. Still, before they ever got to the cot, the dwindling distance between them got his pulse racing and soul urging. The gentle press of lips spiraled into open, fervent exploration, making Julian whimper against Elim; delirious from the sensual friction. It tasted so good that he was getting light-headed. So what if Elim had tried to kill him? It was in the past… Surely it didn’t matter anymore… Surely-

And then a warm, calloused hand was crawling up his ribs and he moaned in such a dissolute manner that he actually made himself blush. 

“Elim…” Julian trembled, “I love what you’re doing to me… But we should speak first or I’ll end up overthinking everything and that’s never good…”

He needed to know this wasn’t some toxic pattern of behavior. He needed to know where Elim stood on the matter, because… Loving someone who once tried to kill you _wasn’t_ healthy. Even he, with his at times shaky understanding of what was normal, knew this wasn’t right.

Respectfully, Elim withdrew his hand and smoothed down the fabric of his shirt with care.

“Sit, my dear.”

Julian sighed and obliged, getting as comfortable as he could. His lover joined him and regarded him attentively, taking Julian’s hand between his palms.

“Now, what’s got you so consumed, beloved?”

Julian gazed into the clear blue stars and prayed he’d been right in his assessment.

Hesitantly, he muttered, “Elim… Do you remember when…” _Gosh, was there no way to say this more tactfully,_ “When you tried to…eliminate the Founders?”

He could see the grim realization dawning in his lover’s eyes. The pain he could intuit behind them hurt him, too. 

“Ask, Julian.” Elim said, resigned to his fate.

His breathing was shallow. Why did this suddenly feel like an insurmountable obstacle? They’d come so far, survived so many awful things… Julian didn’t want this ancient history to ruin what they had - what they could have…

A future with Elim – an endless green plain on Cardassia they could wander through, the Tarlak monument cradling the Blind Moon, and them… entwined in the sand, merging with the earth and the sky; blessed by the roots and the stars… 

“I understand the arithmetic, Elim…” Julian murmured, “I had considered surrendering for a moment because of it, so I can see why the prospect would be tempting. Destroying all your enemies in one fell swoop… The collateral must have seemed acceptable. And I know you could have dealt with Worf if you’d really wanted to… So… What stayed your hand? You could have saved Cardassia… You could have saved the entire Alpha Quadrant. Even I’m not conceited enough to think…” Julian fell quiet. Words felt hollow. 

_ I wasn’t worth a billion Cardassian lives. How could I be? I’m just one man… _

Turmoil glinted in those loving eyes, dulling their vivid color.

Garak sighed wearily, the full weight of his guilt hunching his proud shoulders. The mere sight of it made his throat constrict in anguish.

“Julian… I tried telling myself it was worth it. I tried listening to Tain’s voice in my head, hounding me to follow my training, to do my duty, to shoulder the burden for Cardassia… But I had given up everything for her already! My soul, my heart, my worthless body… And it had never been enough. Killing my only friend… Killing the man who’d saved my life… It felt _wrong_, Doctor. Viscerally wrong. I felt like I was going not only against myself, but also against the will of my hopelessly tangled fateline… Not even to save billions… I couldn’t. Sentiment, Tain would call it… So I was a bit too obvious while overriding the launch controls for the quantum torpedoes, knowing your capable crew members would notice and come for me. My Cardassian pride could not allow for anything less.”

Julian felt silent tears cascading down his cheeks. 

“We were barely speaking at that point, my dear… And don’t think I haven’t noticed we spoke even less after that… I knew I had broken what little trust you had in me with what I’d done. Six months in a cell and not once did you come by. I deserved it. And once I was free, you went back to our infrequent lunches. Once a month, maybe twice, if you felt like it, and I was grateful even for that.”

Julian let out a pained sob.

“I loved you, Julian.” The Cardassian said, with a clearly anguished expression. Its sincerity was positively gutting. “I would have taken any punishment to get you speaking to me again, so I accepted our dwindling contact as par for the course. So, imagine how pathetically grateful I was when our lunches became more frequent again? I thought that, perhaps, in your endless compassion, you had managed to forgive me once again. I should have known… When I saw you in that Dominion prison camp, I realized at once what had happened. You hadn’t forgiven me, not really; it was merely the Changeling, acting on faulty information from back when we were still friends…. I had allowed myself to be fooled by a cheap copy, all because I saw what I wanted to see.”

Julian stared at the light of his life and wept for his pain.

“Is… Is that why you let me stay with you and Tain?”

Elim sighed.

“Julian… I wasn’t blind to the reason for your distance. It had always been the lies. You despised them. Your honest nature abhors their very existence. So I gave you something you could use against me if you so chose. Any of Tain’s old enemies would have been more than happy to murder me and destroy whatever was left of his legacy.”

“I never told anyone! Why would I? Elim, you can’t honestly believe I would have used that against you!”

The tailor’s eyes were soft and penitent.

“You were always far too kind to me, my dearest.”

“No I wasn’t… I abandoned you! I saw you unraveling and the best I could do was push Ezri on you…”

“You tried, Julian. I still meant something to you.”

“I was an idiot, Elim, I’m sorry! We could have resolved this years ago if only we’d talked openly!”

Garak looked at him in sympathy.

“Truly? I don’t see how that could have been possible. I didn’t know who I was anymore, or what my place on Cardassia was. I had lost my home, my sense of self - I had nothing. Only a man I dared not touch and a girl who soothed my homesickness with her kind smile. I didn’t deserve Ziyal’s affection any more than I deserved your kindness, my dear Doctor. Yet… I basked in it. Savoring each moment for months and years after they had gone, revisiting them like a desperate, lonely old man I was...”

“Elim… You’re not old.” Julian said shakily and caressed his cheek gently. “And you never have to be alone again…”

The Cardassian smiled at him - a hesitant, fleeting, frail little thing; he clasped the hand caressing his cheek, turned his face into Julian’s palm and placed the softest, most reverent of kisses there.

Julian felt a blazing light surging within him, reaching for its twin.

Its counterpart.

Striking balance.

They were now stuck in each other’s orbit, finally reaching a state of equilibrium.

Now there was nothing left that could tear them apart.

He smiled at Elim and spoke in hesitant Kardassi,

“_Mirror of my soul, let us never be parted.”_

He could feel the man’s lips forming a smile against his palm, even though his beautiful eyes were closed.

“Never, my Julian…”

Julian allowed the comfortable silence to envelop them.

He could hardly wait for tomorrow evening.

“Can we take a blanket with us tomorrow? And that wonderful kanar? I want to stargaze with you…”

Elim’s eyes opened and his unrestrained smile was carefree and utterly dazzling.

He was so beautiful.

“Naturally, my sweet.”

Julian laughed brightly.

“I’m sorry, Elim, I guess I’m just excited. I’ve wanted that since before I came to Cardassia… I hope a particular monument is still there…”

Elim looked at him shrewdly, almost like he could read his mind.

“Only one way to find out…” The Cardassian intimated deviously.

“I can’t wait.” Julian grinned.

Elim gave him a blissful smile and leaned in for a kiss.

There were no more words for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was overdue. 
> 
> Was it resolved to your satisfaction? I'm not certain there is an explanation sufficient for that particular choice the show made. I would have liked it being addressed at some point...


	86. Chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The suits are finally finished.

Julian was practically bouncing off the walls at work. Zeyem’s cross looks may have stopped the worst of his fidgeting, but nothing could dampen his massive smile. Telat murmured in passing:

“Bliss in the nest, eh?”

Julian blushed.

“No… I mean… yes, I guess, but it’s not that. We’re talking a stroll around Tarlak Grounds tonight, and the weather seemed clear this morning, so… I hope we get to see the Taluvian Constellations and the Blind Moon…”

Telat’s eyes widened.

“That is terribly romantic Bashir, you know that, right?”

“I… uh. That was kind of the point? It’s a significant place for Elim and I’ve wanted to see it for a long time.” Julian smiled softly.

“Telat!” Vonek’s voice pierced their little private bubble, “There you are. Care to take your break now and eat something while Bashir covers the infirmary with Akot? He knows where to find us if something happens.”

The delight in Gaddik’s warm eyes was unmistakable.

“Yes, my love.”

The endearment made Trengem’s scales flush and his expression turned embarrassed. He hissed softly.

“We’re at work, Telat…”

“It’s only Bashir here, he won’t tell anyone, will you?” Gaddik laughed and gave him an inquiring look.

“Your secret is safe with me!” He promised solemnly, knowing the effect was rather ruined by his grin. 

Vonek sighed and placed his hand against the small of Telat’s back and guided him away with as much dignity as possible. Julian watched them leave and smiled fondly. It was lovely they no longer had to hide. 

Anticipation was building in his belly again, overflowing and suffusing his limbs with a new kind of nervous energy. Tonight would be very special, he could sense it. With a blissful sigh, he headed to the infirmary.

***

Before heading home, he had taken a thorough sonic shower, knowing he’d likely work up a sweat regardless, but it paid to be clean, at least for a little while. Cardassia was a very hot and humid place to be. His anticipation had been simmering the entire day. He’d even stayed at work a little longer, to appease Zeyem and get rid of that chastising look in her eyes. 

A brief skimmer ride later, he was dropped off near the Necropolis. He thanked the pilot politely before stopping to catch his breath and calm his racing nerves. 

Would he be able to keep his hands to himself until tonight? He wasn’t sure. His body was overflowing with hormones; manifestations of his desire and joy. Well, a small kiss couldn’t hurt, right? Just a little taste…

His heart was beating rapidly. This is what Elim did to him, made him so deliriously happy he couldn’t contain himself at all. The expanse of his skin was warm and flushed. The gentle breeze was welcome and he looked to the sky. There was some cloud cover, but nothing too terrible. It could yet clear by the time they left for Tarlak, so he wasn’t overly concerned about it. 

Now he wondered whether he should have asked someone what constituted as a romantic gift for a male Cardassian… Did they even do flowers? Well, Elim at least liked chocolates… Gosh, he was so ill-prepared to court a Cardassian. Still, it didn’t seem like Garak minded. They were going to be a family – surely that was more important than any tiny misstep, right?

Taking a deep breath, he headed for the shed.

The doors opened easily, revealing a content-looking Elim, humming and brushing his hands over an emerald garment.

His desire was momentarily tempered by a surge of overwhelming tenderness.

“_I am home, my love.” _He spoke in Kardassi and watched in satisfaction as Elim turned to him and gave him a beaming smile.

“You are getting remarkably good at simple phrases, my dear.”

He gave Elim the most perfunctory of annoyed looks and then approached with an open palm. His gesture was reciprocated with ease and familiarity. How he wished to experience this every day; coming home and being greeted with those sparkling blue eyes, that easy smile and the palm of a most diligent sort – all of these sending frissons of pleasure through his soul. Gray fingers laced through his and he exhaled in satisfaction. 

“I only wish speaking it for longer than a minute didn’t give me coughing fits…” Julian said wryly.

“We managed to get you from fifteen seconds to a full minute already?” Elim observed with amusement, “Perhaps there’s hope of you being fluent within a decade?”

Julian narrowed his eyes at the provoking Cardassian. He knew exactly what Elim was doing, flirting so obviously. Clearly, Julian wasn’t the only one who was looking forward to tonight.

“Perhaps it would go faster if I had a teacher who offered more of an incentive to learn?” He said suggestively, lacing his tone with enough haughtiness to get his partner properly outraged.

“Oh, is that so?” Elim asked, “I wonder what kind of incentive works on insolent humans?”

Julian shivered and groaned as a firm hand grasped him by the hip and pulled him closer until he was flush against Garak.

“I’m sure you can think of something…” Julian attempted to sound arrogant, but the breathy quality of his voice betrayed him. 

“If I did to you everything I could think of, we wouldn’t leave this shed for a full month.” Elim said seductively.

Julian pouted.

“Only a month? Surely we could work something out…”

Elim’s eyes flashed with smoldering promise.

“That would quite depend on your performance, my dear…”

Julian all but whined and pressed himself against Elim, hoping the man would take the hint and make the first move. 

“I’ll practice very diligently, I promise…” Julian muttered, his gaze fluttering between his lover’s expressive eyes and his wickedly smiling mouth.

“How shamelessly you beg, my dear. Quite unbecoming for a Cardassian, I’ll have you know.”

Elim’s words were belied by the way his palms slid over Julian’s arms, agonizingly slowly.

Julian trembled and bared his neck to his beloved, hoping his offering would be enticing enough to knock Garak from his teasing pedestal. An appreciative, rumbling hum could be heard.

“You present such a compelling argument without even speaking, beloved… How devious of you.”

A wonderfully warm hand brushed against the bared side of his neck.

“Are you aware this is considered quite a submissive gesture in our culture?”

Julian bit his lower lip and swallowed, pleading with his eyes for more.

“The effect is only enhanced by that brazenly forthright gaze of yours, my dear… A proper submission would have you lowering your gaze.”

Julian shuddered and averted his eyes.

A warm chuckle caressed his ears.

“Don’t look away, Julian… I quite enjoy how forward you are…” Garak muttered and Julian obeyed.

“Elim…” He arched into his cruel lover and gasped, “Stop torturing me…”

The look in the tailor’s eyes was quite indecent.

With a penetrating, yet soft voice, Garak spoke:

“The sight of you capitulating is quite alluring, my beautiful Chosen…”

Julian whined and pressed himself more insistently against Elim.

Soft lips descended upon his neck, making Julian moan incoherently.

He had expected bites at some point, but they never came; only a rain of soft kisses caressing his skin. The loving touch was making his head spin. 

“Elim…” He mewled softly, losing himself in the gentleness of his lover’s stroking. It was all so deliberate; calculated for maximum effect – he was sure of it. At least as sure as he could be with his mind overloading and shutting down. 

“If you continue this way, Julian, I will not be able to restrain myself for much longer…”

Julian let out an incredulous laugh.

“If I continue- Elim, do you have any idea what you’re even doing to me?”

“Some…” The man said seemingly modestly, but Julian could read the mischievous glint in those beautiful eyes. “You are the most honest lover I’ve ever had the pleasure of engaging with…”

Julian looked at that warm expression and melted. 

“_My joy…_” Julian marveled, “Every look…Every word… Every touch of yours ignites me; fuels me. I come alive in your loving hands…” 

Elim seemed to be breathing in every word, his warm gaze attentive and the touch of his fingertips upon Julian’s jaw reverent.

The feeling came across so clearly; so strongly…

“The suits are finished, my love… Would you like me to dress you now?” Elim inquired softly.

Julian wondered whether that was just an excuse to undress him first, but the earnest and respectful look he was getting spoke of a different kind of motivation.

“_Yes._” Julian uttered in Kardassi.

Elim’s eyes were blazing with devotion. That particular look did funny things to Julian’s insides.

Julian had never known that the act of being divested could be a ritual of true worship.

When he was attracted to someone, he could go slowly and respectfully, well… Either that or the clothes would go flying every which way… but this…

This was unlike anything he’d experienced before.

The absolute focus and the gentleness with which Elim approached his task pulled him into a different sphere. It felt almost like his consciousness was expanding beyond the confines of his body and barriers of his skin. He trembled as Elim’s fingers ghosted over his clavicles as his shirt was being pulled off his shoulders. The anticipation he was feeling was transmuting into something different. There was such pure dedication in every minuscule movement.

Even the texture of his clothes, a sensation he was so used to he usually ignored it altogether; was suddenly overwhelming. As the sleeves fluttered down his arms, every hair on his body rose in response. Elim ran a fingertip down his right arm, gently exploring his gooseflesh. 

“So different…” Elim muttered lost in thought.

“A good different, I hope…” Julian murmured, suddenly self-conscious.

Elim’s gaze was intense as he uttered, “Your insecurity has always baffled me, my dear.”

Julian wasn’t fooled.

_ You’re perfect, _ those words meant. 

It was impossible to love a person more, Julian thought in that moment. 

Once Elim deemed he’d made himself clear, he refocused on his task. Julian couldn’t tell how long it all took; only that it had been thorough and more respectful than it had any reason to be. Perhaps this was how Cardassians showed their devotion, by focusing upon their chosen mate with absolute and unswerving concentration. 

He stood before Elim, completely bared and had never felt more loved.

The tailor gazed upon him keenly, clearly deeply affected by the sight. With a shaky inhale, he stood straighter and looked at Julian expectantly.

“Is it my turn now?” Julian inquired softly and Elim gestured – yes.

With unsteady fingers, he brushed across his beloved’s outer layer of clothing; trying really hard to show Elim he could be every bit as patient and reverent. Careful to keep his touch light, Julian’s nimble fingers found the fastenings and each one was carefully undone, at a glacial pace. He would prove to Elim that he was capable of savoring the moment and demonstrating all the respect he was due. Every inch of skin revealed made him stop and stare in appreciation for a long moment. He took in the sight of his gorgeous lover; ridges bathed in the light of the dying sun, casting his scales with ornate crimson shadows.

“_Beautiful…_” He murmured in Elim’s native language and noticed the man shudder almost imperceptibly.

Once they both stood bared, Julian took a moment to appreciate the silence stretching between them, rich and full of meaning.

Elim gave him a demure smile, the kind Julian couldn’t remember seeing before, as it was an expression entirely devoid of any artifice. Perhaps it wasn’t the kind of smile that would make you want to tell Elim all your secrets, but it was utterly disarming regardless. 

Julian watched the tailor approach the table and pick up an ornate pair of emerald trousers, then come back to his side and kneel before him. He inferred what he was supposed to do and cooperated; stepping into the garment and allowing his beloved to wrap him in the delicate-looking fabric. The coppery filaments glimmered subtly as twilight descended all around them. Elim rose to his feet and fastened his trousers. Julian couldn’t see any seams at all, that is how flawless the cut was. When the turn to put on the jacket came, Julian realized it was more of a tunic, with quite a conservative collar, and an interesting construction that seemed to give the illusion of wider shoulders despite following the slope of his shoulders precisely. It was cut in a way that accentuated the narrowness of his waist but then had a slight flare which came to mid-thigh, with a slight slit in the back and the front so as to not impede his movement. The part of the fabric where the filament weave was flaring across his shoulders and running down his arms to the elbow was enthrallingly beautiful and somewhat familiar... 

With a start, he realized what it meant.

It was a symbolic representation of Cardassian neck ridges and … If he looked more carefully, he noticed the filaments ran across the garment in a beautifully and no-doubt painstakingly crafted pattern which mimicked Cardassian scaling. It was subtle, but once he realized what he was looking at, he couldn’t unsee it.This must have taken Elim forever to make.

It also fit him like a second skin. 

“Elim… this is incredible…” Julian exclaimed excitedly while moving around and testing the fit, “It fits me like a glove! When did you even manage to get my measurements?”

A secretive smile was the only reward for his questions.

“You get to pick between a vague half-truth or a bald-faced lie, my dear… So, which one will it be?”

Julian chuckled at Elim’s silliness.

“Oh, keep your secrets, love… Just color me suitably impressed.”

Elim’s lips spread in a more familiar self-satisfied manner.

“Oh dear, I find myself terribly under-dressed all of a sudden…”

Julian snorted and took that as his cue. He padded to the table on bare feet and caressed the burgundy suit. What kind of magic did the tailor perform on this fabric, he wondered. Julian licked his lips and picked up the trousers, following Elim’s lead and repeating everything his beloved had done.

If his own suit was intricate, Elim’s could only be described as mesmerizing. The cut was extremely flattering, the geometric patterns running down the middle and narrowing until they tapered off. It wasn’t the most flamboyant suit he’d seen on the tailor, but it was definitely the most dignified. Black piping accentuated the wonderful cut and Julian had to admit he was quite partial to the effect.

He dressed the Cardassian gently, marveling at his own patience. Somehow, during this entire process, his ardor had cooled, leaving in its place a sense of silent awe. 

“These are the most beautiful garments I’ve ever seen you make…” Julian murmured.

“I am glad you are pleased.” Elim said simply.

Julian beamed at him.

“You look incredible, _mirror of my soul_.”

Elim’s smile was wide and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes pronounced.

“Shall we finish dressing, my dear? I believe you wanted to take a stroll?”

Julian grinned happily and hastened to don his shoes, earning an amused laugh from Elim.

“Let me guess,” Julian inquired self-consciously, “I should have done that more slowly?”

The answering look he got was brimming with fondness.

“I have always found your impatience endearing, Julian.” With that said, Garak offered him a hand to get up and Julian accepted it with a huff.

“That’s certainly not what I remember! You hated how fast I ate!”

Elim exhaled in a dramatic fashion.

“After all this time, you are still afflicted with typical human literal-mindedness, my dear… Surely you can intuit _why _I would say such things? With the benefit of hindsight and knowledge you’ve amassed on my culture, it should pose no difficulty.”

Julian was momentarily taken aback.

“Wait…” He narrowed his eyes at Garak. “Is that one of those instances where you were being contrary just for the hell of it? Was all that infuriating grousing just flirting?!”

Elim chuckled.

“Most certainly, my dear. Also, can you blame me for trying to prolong what little time we spent together?”

That hit hard.

Elim _wanted_ to spend more time with him, as he actually enjoyed it and likely looked forward to it… Julian had enjoyed their heated debates, but it had always been more than that to Garak. Ugh, he’d been an absolute dimwit. Now, as he looked at the man, he couldn’t imagine not falling for him. Perhaps this had always been inevitable; sooner or later…

“I’ll make it up to you, my love.” Julian vowed. “I promise.”

Elim’s smile was one of warm delight.

“I know.” The Cardassian remarked softly and caressed his brow, circling around his eye, tracing the contours of his zygomatic bone. It was the trajectory a Cardassian’s eye ridges would form. 

“Regretting choosing a ridgeless creature already?” Julian ribbed the man, surprised that Elim turned serious at that.

“I’m quite incapable of regretting my choice, dearest.”

Julian gave him a bashful little smile.

“Let’s gather what we need and go, all right? I don’t exactly know how much of Tarlak Grounds is still there…”

“Some of it is still standing… I’m afraid the greenery is long gone, though.”

“That’s all right.” Julian said brightly. “I just hope we find a nice place to sit on…”

Elim smiled serenely and picked up a backpack off the cot.

“Wait, are you already packed?” Julian wondered aloud and then shook his head. “Of course you are, what am I even saying… Sometimes I forget who I am talking to.”

“A dangerous prospect, to be sure...” Elim said affectionately and escorted Julian out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No drawings, sadly. Muses didn't cooperate. I have managed to sketch Ghar, though! I might post it later... the next 2 chapters come with their own music! I can't wait to hear what you think! :D


	87. Under the Blind Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Elim visit the Tarlak Grounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, this fic comes full circle from chapter 3! 
> 
> I recommend listening to [Married to Cardassia](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/612593857991966720/excerpt-from-chapter-87-of-under-the-blind-moon) on repeat while you read this chapter! <3

The night had fallen around them, draping Cardassia City in warm shadows. Wisps of reedy clouds trailed across the star-dappled sky and a gentle breeze was sweeping by them, rustling through the ever-present sandy sediment covering the streets. Julian noticed that Elim was keeping careful watch for any potential trouble, despite his outward relaxed appearance and easy smile. Julian appreciated the vigilance and the protectiveness it stemmed from. 

_ Maybe it’s just a lifetime of having to look over his shoulder… _

The thought made him sad. Would there ever come a time when Elim could wander these streets without any fear? He wanted such a future for him. 

He wished for safety and comfort for a man who never had much of either. 

Julian felt a surge of affection for the careful Cardassian. Gosh, that suit looked fabulous on Elim. He cut an impressive figure, even in the darkness. The night lights in the city were mostly fried and Julian assumed they weren’t much of a priority. Cardassians could see fairly well in low-light conditions, after all. His human eyes were not overly useful here. If he weren’t augmented, he’d be stumbling around like a blind man. Even here, Elim was attentive, placing a supportive hand on his lower back and steering him where they were supposed to go. 

They got a few curious looks as they passed through Paldar, but there weren’t many people around. With the city in ruin, there wasn’t exactly much point in venturing outside at night, he guessed.

“Is this the path you would have taken to Tarlak before?”

“Some of it,” Elim murmured. “The Fire has created some… shortcuts.”

Julian merely nodded and allowed himself to be led.

Once they cleared the neighborhood, they stepped onto what seemed like an old avenue. 

The density of buildings in front of them was significantly lower. 

“This is Tarlak; the grounds are that way.“ Elim pointed and walked in the indicated direction.

While Paldar had clear signs of habitation, there was almost nothing of the sort here. The ruined buildings jutted into the sky, haunting and empty. He couldn’t hear any footsteps or machinery either. 

“I can’t hear any signs of life here, Elim… Does nobody live here?”

“Tarlak was emptied out; its inhabitants were relocated to the barracks in the Akleen Sector. There weren’t very many, as this was a public space, not a residential area.”

“Oh.” Julian said simply and quieted down.

The world was almost eerily silent here. Only the soft whoosh of wind through the rubble could be heard.

They passed by dark sentinels of rubble and stepped onto what Julian assumed was once a path. A big space opened up before them. He tried to get his bearings and calculate where the cradle monument was, but it was really hard to orient himself in the dark, with the vast majority of the landmarks gone. 

The man’s footsteps were almost inaudible.

Julian strained his eyes to see better, when Elim suddenly stopped.

“Elim?” He asked, alert for any signs of trouble.

His beloved’s face was wistful.

“This was where Palandine came to play with Kel…”

Julian tried to look around, but couldn’t see much of anything, only a charred tree stump nearby…

Oh.

This must have been the place he’d observed them from.

An emotional exile which preceded the physical one.

Julian took Elim’s face in his palms and murmured reassuringly,

“You never have to be on the outside, looking in on somebody else’s happiness, Elim… Never again. You get to have something of your own now.”

Elim sighed and leaned in to rest his forehead against Julian’s.

“Thank you, Julian…” The Cardassian murmured softly.

It was in that moment that the full weight of the realization crept up on him and draped itself oppressively around his heart.

Elim had never had anything of his own.

He _belonged_ to Mila and Tain, he was _used _by Lokar and the Obsidian Order, and what little comfort he had found with Palandine had been an illusion because she was enjoined with another man… All through that, he never truly _had_ anyone or anything that wasn’t tainted in some way.

A lifetime of isolation, deprivation and loneliness… Decades worth of emptiness and pain.

It was such a devastating truth.

“I’ll never let you be lonely again,” Julian whispered fiercely. “I will be your home and your warmth.”

Elim’s beautiful eyes opened slowly, piercing and blue. He tilted his head gently and moved in.

The touch of his lips was light and soft.

Julian’s heart was bursting with love.

When Elim broke the kiss and moved away, Julian’s heart rate was elevated.

“Let’s head towards what’s left of the monuments, my dear.”

Julian blinked and indicated yes with his chin.

Reassured that there was nobody around, Julian reached for Elim’s hand and interlocked their fingers.

“Can we walk like this?” Julian asked softly.

Elim’s smile was warm.

“If you wish…”

Taking a stroll while holding hands… It seemed like such an innocent, almost childish gesture, but Julian realized he craved it – the simplicity of belonging.

“Some of these were hundreds of years old… They stood proudly for generations as milestones of our achievements… Gone in a single bombardment.” The regret in Garak’s voice was unmistakable. 

“War is always a terrible thing… I never understood it.” Julian commented somberly. 

“No,” Elim said wryly, “I don’t suppose you would… You are far too kind to condone such a thing.”

“Why do I get the feeling that I’ve missed previous instances of you giving me compliments and dismissed them as condescending little jabs?”

Elim chuckled at that.

“Because you have opened yourself up to the possibility, at long last?”

Julian remembered Keiko’s words. 

_ “So, who caved in first? I’m guessing it must have been something big to make you open your eyes to the possibility…” _

Possibilities…

Probabilities.

Statistics and odds and numbers.

The closest common denominator.

Those were uncomplicated.

They came to him easily, wove a perfectly vivid tapestry he could construct and then de-construct at his leisure. Emotions, though… Feelings? Interpersonal relationships?

Subtle body-language confused and overwhelmed. People who said opposite of what they meant vexed and exhausted, and different species, with their entirely unique cultures, languages, customs and _yes_ a wholly unique set of behavioral patterns and social expectations got even his impressive brain whirring away helplessly until the cold and clammy grip of anxiety set in; reminding him he was slipping and failing and painfully _noticeable _in his desperate bid to adapt to the norm.

How then, did he manage to fall for a man who was almost cruelly subtle, spoke in infuriating half-truths and innuendos, and came from a culture that stood for everything opposite to what Julian believed in?

The dichotomy was deeply intriguing. 

And then it hit him; in the middle of ruined Cardassia City, in an abandoned sector populated only by ghosts and shadows.

It had been the challenge all along.

Elim had continued to dangle bait in front of him; be it a tantalizing mystery, contradictory piece of information or merely a complex look which spoke of promise…

How could he do anything but laugh out loud?

_ “You are a man who loves secrets. Medical, personal, fictional. I am a man of secrets. You want to know what I know, and the only way to do that is to accept the assignment.“ _

Sloan had been onto something, even though it had actually been wildly off mark.

It had never been about secrets.

The only thing he'd ever been in pursuit of... was _understanding_.

Truth.

And what is understanding, if not a desire for connection with another?

“Of course I fell in love with you…” Julian murmured in awe. 

He had never wanted to understand a person more than Elim Garak. Julian was aware of how embarrassingly enthusiastic and eager he’d been to get a chance to tackle the most interesting person on the station. Once he’d discovered Garak could outmaneuver him in pretty much every arena, be it conversational, strategic or skill-wise – he’d been awed by the scintillating intellect evident in those piercing blue eyes. He was being put through his paces; the rug pulled out under him again and again, and like a glutton for punishment, he always came bouncing back for more like some overexcited puppy. Garak was dangerous and intelligent, which allowed Julian to show more of himself in their debates, as desperate as he was to prove his point and to impress…

“Our lunches together…” Julian grinned, “How obvious was it that I was trying to impress you?”

Elim gave him a wry smile.

“You did far more than try, Julian – you actually succeeded. Very early on, even. Despite your clear lack of understanding on matters of nuance and subtext, the sheer passion with which you presented your arguments was quite… effective.”

“Cardassians are… drawn to passion, aren’t they? No…” Julian pondered aloud,” To a combination of passion and restraint?”

“Fire and water should always go together, yes.” Elim conceded easily.

Julian pondered that for a moment. It made sense. Overwhelming passion needed to be tempered with prudence and wisdom, lest it lead to recklessness.

“Now I see why we are made for each other…”

Elim’s eyes went wide.

“Don’t look at me that way, Elim! Like I’ve just said something preposterous… You have failed to conform to a perfect and unachievable ideal of a Cardassian, just as I have failed to embody the equivalent ideal of a proper human. We are both… more than we should be. We know more. We see more. We both wanted – _needed_ more, but were denied. Your passion is immeasurable, yet almost entirely internal, perfectly contained by a lifetime of training and oppressive, harmful expectations. My passion is external, unrestrained and chaotic. My self-control, however, is entirely internalized. You present a front that reveals nothing, but everyone can tell it’s a façade concealing an endless amount of secrets. My front seems so open, so naive that nobody would expect it hides a void within. I’ve thought myself broken… Empty… But you showed me wrong. The boy I was before all the… _rearranging… _Jules isn’t gone. He was still inside me, just as confused by social norms and people’s nonsensical behavior as ever. I had focused so much on what others could see of me that I neglected what I actually _was_. You… you noticed this discrepancy and you didn’t punish me for it. You accepted it. You accepted _me_.”

“I saw your kindness, Doctor. Your boundless compassion. I had been taught it was a weakness, yet in you… it shone so brightly. That, my dear, is your most defining characteristic. And that, in and of itself… is _strength_.”

There it was. The reason why Elim had fallen in love with him, spelled out almost embarrassingly directly. 

It would seem Elim was changing too.

Perhaps he’d always been…

They’d been shaping one another in invisible strokes from the moment they’d met.

Julian’s smile was radiant and his eyes, now used to the darkness around him, took in his surroundings. The breeze was light and smelled in a way only Cardassia could smell – entirely unique. The scattered remnants of monuments littered the shadowed landscape stretching all around them and he spared a look at the stars. A wisp of a cloud was traveling across the sky, trailing over a muted spot of light.

_ The Blind Moon… _

And in its feeble, sacred light, Julian’s eyes found the shining marble monument, resting atop a scattered, ruined staircase.

It seemed somewhat worse for wear, but it was still standing.

Just like them.

Just like Cardassia itself.

Delight spilling into his voice, he tugged at Elim’s hand.

“I see it! Look… It’s right there, let’s go!”

He could hear Garak laughing behind his back as he struggled for a moment to pick up the pace. 

In that moment, he didn’t care about how he looked or what Elim would think. They were now bared to one another and Julian would use that as an opportunityto just be himself, in all his ridiculous and contradictory glory.

“Hurry up, Elim! The moon is getting lower!”

“My dear,” The man’s voice was softly chiding, “This is decidedly not the definition of a stroll.”

Julian laughed, feeling silly and liberated.

“Are you getting rusty, Elim? Perhaps you should stop hemming pants all day and start exercising more?” 

An affronted sound was his only reply and he was surprised when Elim dropped his hand and overtook him with the kind of speed that left him momentarily speechless.

“Oi!” He yelled after the running Cardassian, “That’s cheating!”

With that said, he sprinted after the man, breathless with laughter. It made running surprisingly difficult, he found. 

He may be faster over-all, but Garak could see better in this darkness and Julian found himself having to jump over holes and charred remains of once, no doubt, impressive flora. 

Regardless, he was gaining on Elim steadily.

They arrived at the foot of the stairs leading to the monument at roughly the same time, Elim pretending rather well that he was not winded, and Julian wheezing with laughter.

“You- ridiculous… competitive… baffling Cardassian…”

“I guess hemming pants is better for stamina than sitting behind a console all day …” The man sniped and Julian dissolved into a helpless, giggling heap.

How did he ever manage to miss the fondness in those eyes?

It was so easy to read now.

“Come here, you flirtatious beast.” Julian beckoned and Elim rolled his eyes theatrically before relenting. Once his beloved was within reach, he embraced him. For a long moment, he held the man so dear to him; breathing in his heady, exotic scent and felt Elim doing the same. Briefly, he wondered what he smelled like to a Cardassian nose, but wasn’t bothered enough to actually ask. By the looks of things, Garak seemed to enjoy it, and that’s all that mattered.

“I believe it’s time to use that blanket I assume you’ve packed?” Julian challenged teasingly.

As was customary, Elim pretended to be affronted and gracefully reached for his backpack. Julian watched in silence, admiring the economy of the tailor’s movements. 

He’d searched for the truth about the man for so long; he forgot there was truth in all of Elim’s lies.

He was at once a spy, an assassin, an interrogator, as well as a gardener, tailor and poet… 

Julian smiled.

_ He is just… Elim. _

Where once all his mind felt was a compulsion to make the disparate puzzle pieces fit, he allowed the ever shifting picture to exist as it was, unperturbed by his unnecessary intrusions into its delicate structure. 

Patience truly had its rewards, it seemed.

“Hand that over,” Julian demanded the blanket.

With unparalleled and blatantly feigned dignity, Elim handed it over with an exaggerated flourish.

Julian snorted and walked away from the monument for a bit, then turned around and looked up at the sky. 

They had about fifteen minutes until the Blind Moon dipped into the bowl of the monument from this vantage point. Satisfied with the distance, he walked around for a bit, kicking any stone he’d found underfoot to clear the ground before he placed their blanket down. The texture of dried grass upon sandy soil was interesting and… kind of crunchy.

With a swish, he unfurled the blanket and set it gently on the ground. Beside him, Elim was setting down the backpack.

Julian patted himself down for any stray dust that may have accumulated on his wonderful suit while they were traveling here, and once he was satisfied he wouldn’t get any on the blanket, he sat down and removed his dusty boots. He wished to be comfortable. Next to him, Elim was doing the same.

Julian savored the sight.

The night around them was warm and calm, the only sound the crunch of dried grass under their blanket and the soft breeze sweeping across the quiet Grounds. Elim’s dear face was a bright spot in the soothing darkness, affectionate and understatedly beautiful.

He watched Elim amble closer to the middle of the large blanket and kneel serenely. Overcome by a desire to match him, he moved closer and knelt before his chosen. Julian wished to observe the play of frail light and vivid shadow across those intricate ridges.

Elim raised his right hand and Julian happily pressed his narrow palm against the man’s broader one. 

Julian forgot to count the seconds and felt the slow brush of fingers interlocking with his. The moment his fingertips covered his lover’s knuckles, Elim let out a gentle sigh and raised his other palm as well.

What was this, other than another mirror?

Julian slid his palm against Elim’s gently, and this time he let his fingers slide between the gardener’s. 

For some reason, he was feeling a curious sense of excitement and expectation.

“I offered you my hearth and home…” Elim said softly.

Yes, he had, hadn’t he? And just look how far they’d come since then… 

Julian’s mind flew to that moment in the past. The tribute he’d brought Garak placed between them; the sheer joy when he’d gotten the chocolates, the way his friend cradled the bolts of fabric and the look in his eyes…

The words made sense – they fit.

Julian voiced them eagerly.

“I offered you my blood and bone.” He smiled warmly, willing Elim to see in his eyes all the devotion he felt for him.

All that he’d promised…

He would have years to fulfill.

“I gave you the softness of my skirts…” Elim continued, his voice breathless and vulnerable.

Tenderness, vast and delicate.

The words came so easily.

“And I gave you my grain.” Julian spoke firmly. Kindly.

Elim would never go hungry again.

His beloved’s hesitant little smile was so enchanting…

“I promise to grow your roots.” Elim spoke with such reverence that it left Julian humbled.

He already had, hadn’t he?

The mirror of his soul…

His Gardener…

His Chosen.

“And I promise life-giving rain.” 

Julian swore, vowing never to allow the man to feel the cruel sting of loneliness.

Elim shuddered before him and brought their foreheads together.

Julian closed his eyes and felt utterly content.

This was what peace felt like.

For once, there were no anxieties, no fears, no worries – only a soothing certainty that everything was in its rightful place. He belonged here now.

With Elim.

To Elim.

To Cardassia.

“Julian…”

He recognized the meaning in that word. After all, he’d heard it repeated over and over in the recording Ezri sent him.

Endlessly warm.

“Yes, Elim?” He reciprocated gently and opened his eyes.

There was a wealth of emotion in the clear blue of his beloved twin stars.

“I want to feel your skin…” Elim muttered and Julian felt a shiver cascading down his spine.

“I’m yours, remember?” Julian murmured softly. 

Julian noticed the ridges across Elim’s neck flushing a dark blue as his lover slowly began to undo the fastenings on his tunic. He knew the man wore nothing underneath, and it was currently 34°C outside, which meant that the Cardassian would likely be feeling slightly uncomfortable with no clothing to warm him. Still, he couldn’t voice any caring remarks, what with the sensual sight right before his eyes.

Once Elim removed his tunic, he set about folding it gently and precisely, then placed it on top of the backpack.

Julian wanted to run his hands across the expanse of that silvery skin. Warmth was rushing through his limbs and he tried to take his clothes off slowly, but his fingers were betraying him; trembling and hasty.

“Julian… The time for restraint has passed.” Elim stated clearly, coaxing a moan out of him.

Good. 

It’s not like he had the patience to actually fold the garment, no matter how beautiful it was. He shrugged it off, aware that he was currently anything but elegant and lay it beside them.

That was all he had time to do before Elim was upon him.

Warm lips and coarse palms claimed him, his lover’s breath hot against his neck. Julian ran his hands down the delightful mosaic of Elim’s back; eliciting a wonderful shiver.

Everything vanished.

The calculations, ever-present, fizzled out.

Like snuffing out the flame of a burning candle, Elim’s gusty breath chased away all thought. 

There were no more observations on atmospheric pressure, temperature and humidity; no more background algorithms on viral dispersion patterns… 

Only the present moment in all its complexity, overwhelming him with detail.

Each slide of scale against skin… Each nip of teeth against his flesh… Each caress of those deft hands…

Julian trembled and arched, his gaze drawn towards the Blind Moon, sliding into its cradle.

“My love… Look.”

Reluctantly, his lover obeyed and followed his gaze.

“I’ve never seen this…” Elim murmured, voice tinged with awe.

“I have.” Julian admitted. “I recreated Tarlak Grounds inside a holosuite because I wanted to see what you once saw… Cardassia – beautiful, resplendent…”

“This is what you wanted to share with me?” Elim inquired, his eyes blazing with a curious emotion Julian couldn’t decipher.

“Yes. I spent so many evenings observing this… The Blind Moon was pulling at me… Elim…”

“Our union is blessed…” The Cardassian murmured and took Julian’s face in his palms. “You’ve chosen a wonderful place, my Julian… Thank you.”

Then Elim’s palms slid down his cheeks, neck and shoulders; trailing down his forearms to his elbows.

“Yours… yes… My Elim.”

They came together seamlessly, like they were always meant to find each other.

Two children, growing up in darkness, spreading their hands in hope of a single brush of fingers – sliding palm against palm, interlocking their fingers never to let go.

He had a companion to wade through the darkness now and he was no longer afraid.

Naked and entwined, Julian gasped at the rich sensations. 

Fingertips, mapping his skin with relish… Hot mouth staking the man’s claim on him, repeatedly and with dizzying fervor; the slick fullness as Elim grunted, lying behind him, holding his thigh up in a heady grip.

With the last remnant of his rational mind, Julian turned his Universal Translator off.

Elim’s rich voice rumbled near his ear, thick and nourishing like warm honey.

“_My treasured one…” _His lover whispered, voice raspy and affected, “_My warm spring’s day… My sweet summer rainfall…”_

The Kardassi was a caress unto its own, claiming his mind as effortlessly as Elim was claiming his body. Julian’s breaths were coming out as needy little gasps as he blindly reached behind him to find scales to touch.

Is this how Elim saw him?

Soothing warmth in a cold world and water in the driest desert…

So… What did Elim represent in his mind?

He recalled the stubborn insistence with which he always knew where Cardassia was… The marker he’d been chasing so desperately… The darkness he had emerged from, floating gently on the surface of a warm sea…

“_Elim__… My guiding star…” _He trembled, delirious and lost in the powerful current,_ “My endless ocean… My safe harbor…”_

Julian was floating above his own body, feeling like he was one with the air – his molecules, his awareness dispersing all around them. He felt the heat of the earth, almost as if he could touch the fiery core of the planet below and the cool twinkling of stars was a gentle caress from above.

_ “I relish the taste of my ancestral tongue on yours, Julian…”  _ Elim uttered breathlessly and Julian writhed in his arms; his senses overloading.

“_The taste of you wipes my mind_…” Julian admitted, feeling intoxicated. “_I lose all my thoughts and only you remain…”_

An erratic and unrestrained hiss blew past his ear.

_ “You taste like the sea, Julian… Like the wind on top of the cliffs of Ba’aten…” _

Julian could see it – the jungle that’s been there for millennia, the ancient trees that had been caressed by Hebitian hands still growing in the heart of it; the howling of the wind against the cliffs and the constant battering of the churning sea creating an updraft strong enough to carry him high above the forest where his outstretched arms were enough to make him drift and glide in an endless circle above the aquamarine waters of Morfan…

“Elim!” Julian whined as his lover’s warm breath turned erratic behind him. 

The languid kisses against his neck were turning into gasping, open-mouthed stutters.

_ “Fly with me, Elim…”  _ Julian pleaded, “_Fall with me…”_

A tide of warmth crashed over him, dragging him away in a storm of golden light as it exploded in a shower of bright sparks before his eyes.

He must have blanked out for a moment, high on the rush of hormones, satiated and lazy. When he came to, blinking the shiny particles out of his eyes, he noted he’d apparently rolled onto his back and was staring at the sky.

Elim was nuzzling into his shoulder and placing the softest of kisses there. Julian smiled at his wonderful lover hazily. 

“_My Julian…”_

His face stretched into a brilliant smile and he observed the relaxed features of his darling Cardassian’s face. How rarely did he get a chance to see that? It was so lovely…

“_I love seeing joy on your face, blossoming like an Edosian orchid…” _He murmured to Elim. His throat was sadly beginning to protest the harsh vocalizations proper enunciation required. Julian coughed and swallowed, trying to ease the raw feeling in his throat.

“Sorry, Elim… My vocal apparatus is not very suited to your beautiful language.” He muttered apologetically, his eyes full of mirth and adoration.

“_I’ve always admired your effort, mirror of my soul. I’d never dare ask for more…”_

The softness in that voice was indescribable. 

Julian reached out to run his fingertips against Elim’s eye-ridges and felt almost like his body was moving through water. Perhaps it was simply the lassitude after their exertions.

His lover’s face relaxed and his eyes fluttered closed. Julian observed him in silence and continued to caress his face with the softest of touches. 

“_My beautiful Elim…_” He murmured in a raspy voice and felt his voice give. There would be soreness tomorrow, but he couldn’t care less; not when wonderfully bright blue eyes opened, pulling him up into the air effortlessly. Once again, he felt like he was flying.

There was no artifice on Elim’s face, not anymore. 

No masks, no enigmatic smiles.

No mischief.

Only a muted, ethereal sort of awe.

Julian observed his beloved’s body tense with a shudder.

“If you’re cold, maybe we should get dressed?” He offered, despite not being inclined to move in the slightest.

Elim’s blue eyes glinted in the darkness.

“_How can I be cold while the sun is out?”_ The man rumbled low in his throat and gave him a look that invaded his mind and soul.

Julian watched, transfixed as Elim climbed on top of him with unparalleled grace. Thought deserted him as he focused on his lover’s warm body hovering above him. Coarse fingers ran gently down his torso and he shivered, drugged on the sensations evoked by his beloved’s clever hands. Excitement was building up again and he moaned when he realized what Elim was about to do.

A gentle grasp, tentative.

Exploring.

Boneless, he sprawled over the blanket and moaned softly, allowing Elim to do as he pleased.

And when his beautiful mate shifted, Julian whimpered at the sensation. 

He stared at the stars, blue and burning; at the outlines of that familiar shape against the backdrop of Cardassia’s starry sky and knew the feeling would overwhelm soon, cresting like a wave.

His arms lay above his head and he felt his palms brushing against the brittle dried grass. With a prolonged groan, he buried his fingers in the silt.

With a soft cry, words spilled out of him,

“Can you feel it, Elim? The heat of the earth? The sting of starlight on your skin?”

Elim leaned in and buried his fingers in the ground next to his.

A rumbling hiss filled the air as his lover moved languidly.

“_We’re enjoined to Cardassia. She will bless our Union.”_

Julian could feel it.

The roots.

Forming-

Burrowing-

Tangling…

With a strangled moan, the pleasure crested and crashed inside him, all around him; golden light flooded his vision, transmuting the palest silvery light of the moon into a glowing halo. Their fingers lay buried and interlocked in the sand, yet Julian felt like he was part of the sky, slowly drifting down as the world around him exploded into ever-shifting fractals – magnificent spirals of light, particles and waves...

Cardassia was now in his lungs, in his blood and in his bones.

A feeling of utter peace filled him.

Elim’s labored breathing was interwoven with the soft rush of the wind, brushing across the peaceful grounds. 

Elim collapsed by his side and Julian draped himself over the languid Cardassian, burrowing into his embrace. Murmuring softly, he pressed lazy kisses into warm gray skin. 

“Fair warning… I might fall asleep…”

“_I will stand vigil, my dear, worry not.”_

“Too comfy…” Julian muttered and sighed happily. “Elim…”

The last thing that registered was a long, soft kiss to his temple and the whisper of his name amplified by the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My darlings, thank you for reading and sticking with me; you cannot possibly know how much your support means to me.
> 
> I need your theories on this one, my lovelies!


	88. Swept Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian awakens to Elim's declarations of love.
> 
> They are caught out in the rain...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Elim in Love](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/613200672204128256/companion-piece-for-chapter-88-of-under-the-blind), the companion piece I've composed for this chapter! It's a play on the motif from the main theme, as well as the yearning theme (chapters 3 and 5 respectively).
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Julian squirmed. Somebody was speaking softly, but he couldn’t really understand anything. The words flowed over him, warm and soothing and somewhat familiar…

It took him a moment to realize he was hearing Kardassi.

Elim was murmuring into his hair and Julian couldn’t really understand, as he was slightly fuzzy from sleep, but the words sounded like sweet endearments. They fluttered through the strands of his hair like the gentlest breeze and he hummed in drowsy pleasure at the feeling of being so cherished. As he attempted to focus, his mind took in the soft words.

“_The road traveled is a spiral, dust that rises and conceals the horizon; _

_ I have lost sight of our beginnings, but before me shines a beacon - _

_ beckons _ _ me to heights never before imagined;  _

_ to _ _ a place where the mind fails and there is only the vague outline of who you are.  _

_ As my eyes fail, I perceive you with my soul – finally your shape is clear…” _

It was Cardassian poetry. Elim was holding him and caressing his back tenderly, all the while reciting beautiful poetry… Julian wondered whose it was… Iloja of Prim, perhaps?

“_I am running out of things to tell you, my soul… Do forgive me… The air smells like rain and a part of me wishes to see your beautiful body bathed by it… One day, when the air is less choked with dust, I could drink from your skin – from the hollow of your throat and from your palms, like a supplicant…”_

The dedication in those words was endless and Julian sighed happily into Elim’s warm neck.

_ “True love is devotion… It serves without being asked, it offers freely and asks nothing in return… Yet, if the tide returns, one overflows with gratitude and is replete with joy… I will serve you; my Julian – as well as I can serve Cardassia. I shall make no distinction between you two… for you are now one with her, and I will protect your delicate tendrils until we can no longer be uprooted by any calamity…” _

“Elim…” He muttered lovingly and snuggled in.

“_Are you awake at last, dearest?” _The sweetest inquiry tousled his hair.

“Mnm… I’m awake…”

_ “That doesn’t sound very convincing, my love… _ ” The Cardassian chuckled softly.

Julian yawned and cracked his eyes open. It took him a few seconds for his eyes to focus in the darkness. 

“How long was I asleep?” He wondered aloud and Elim smiled at him.

“_A few hours… Dawn isn’t far away now. We should get dressed… It smells like rain.”_

Julian chuckled sleepily.

“That might ruin our wonderful suits…”

_ “Quite. And that would be a shame.”  _ Garak conceded playfully.

For a moment, Julian marveled at the change he could see in Elim’s bright eyes. There was no mischief gleaming in their depths, no flicker of deviousness or challenge; only a warm softness of a man clearly in love. He was struck anew by that wonderfully unexpected sight. Perhaps in a few months or years, it would stop feeling strange to see Elim so unguarded. 

“_My beautiful Elim…” _Julian rasped, trying to enunciate properly and only ended up coughing for his trouble.

The moment he caught his breath again, a warm hand was caressing his neck and he was pulled into a wonderfully drawn-out kiss. He melted into the touch and sighed blissfully when Elim eventually moved away. 

“_I suggest we continue this back home, my dear…”_

Julian laughed and slowly got up. There was a pop when he straightened and he felt a tad stiff, wondering how bad it would be for Elim. It’s not like the ground was overly comfortable. He stretched with a groan and actually heard the cascade of crackle down his spine. Aware he wasn’t exactly a picture of grace, he subdued the impulse to flush at having Garak witness him floundering about in the dark, trying to dress. 

Julian chuckled as he was fastening his jacket. They never got to the kanar. Or the stargazing. Still, he couldn’t exactly bring himself to regret any part of tonight. It had been utterly wonderful and he wouldn’t change a single thing. He looked at Elim, who was busy putting his arms in the sleeves of his immaculately tailored tunic. 

“It looks gorgeous on you, Elim. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

There was a flash of teeth in the darkness and the man tilted his head in humble acknowledgment. 

“You could say I was… _Uniquely_ motivated. After all, I can’t look a pauper next to your splendor, my dear_.”_

Julian grinned.

“There’s something undeniably sexy about hearing you speak my language without the UT to smooth it out.”

“_I thank you for the compliment, my dear, but I strongly suggest we head home. A storm is brewing.”_

Julian nodded in agreement and stepped into his shoes while Garak vigorously shook out the blanket so he could fold it and put it away. The air smelled differently, and the humidity had noticeably increased. The sky was almost completely covered by clouds and visibility was terrible. He would definitely need Elim’s guidance on their way back. 

Once the blanket was carefully packed up, Julian reached for Elim’s hand in the darkness and threaded their fingers together.

“_Hurry, my dear._ _ If it starts pouring, we’d better have pavement under our feet.” _

“Yes, Elim.” Julian murmured. He honestly didn’t want to slog through drenched sand, so he kept a brisk pace. 

There was a bright flash of forked lightning splitting the sky above them. After a few moments, the rumble of thunder followed, deafeningly loud. Elim lengthened his stride and hurried them along a pathway leading out of the darkened Tarlak. Stumbling only occasionally, Julian did his best to keep up the pace. The wind was picking up again, swirling detritus around their ankles and blowing dust into their faces. They were along the outer perimeter of the grounds when the first fat drops of rain fell. Even the rain was ridiculously warm. Julian giggled as a drop slid under his collar at the nape of his neck. 

Garak grumbled by his side and broke into a run as the slow patter of rain increased in intensity. 

Julian found the situation immensely amusing. Here they were, sprinting across the ruins of pre-dawn Cardassia City, pelted by unrelenting rain and warm wind and all he could think about was how much fun it was. 

“I don’t think we’re going to get home in a dry state, Elim!” He cried out, chuckling as they crossed the avenue back into Paldar.

“_As always, my dear, your penchant for stating the obvious is astounding!”_

Julian laughed merrily at the grousing in his beloved’s tone. 

“You’re adorable when you’re grumpy, Elim!” 

The Cardassian made no intelligible response to that and Julian found that endlessly amusing in its own right. As they weaved through Paldar, the rain only became heavier and Julian realized this was the first downpour he’d seen since he came. It was utterly delightful, even as his wonderful suit clung to his skin, completely drenched. With his free hand, he raked fingers through his hair to smooth it down and get it out of his eyes. There was something undeniably childish about enjoying himself this much, but it felt so invigorating to feel Cardassia this way, so wild and warm and unrestrained in its splendor! A marvelous idea occurred to him and he grinned widely. 

How perfect would it be to just stop and kiss Elim in this rain?

“Elim, stop for a moment…” He attempted to persuade his beloved, but the man seemed uninterested.

“_I know you may not feel cold, dear Doctor, but I am, so excuse me if I’d prefer to get back under a roof!”_

“What’s another minute going to do?” Julian laughed, wiping the rain out of his eyes and flicked his wet fingers Elim’s way, who narrowed his eyes with a slight growl for added effect. “We’re already as wet as we can possibly be!” 

“_Truly?_ _ I haven’t noticed.”  _ His lover said scathingly, prompting a veritable deluge of giggles. 

Still, Garak had slowed down enough for Julian to pull him by the hand and make him swivel around at which point Julian kissed him breathlessly, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Elim’s firm lips softened and parted for him. 

_ I can taste Cardassia… _ Julian thought furtively and molded against Elim as they embraced. What started slowly was growing frantic and almost embarrassingly needy. With a soft gasp, he realized his lover was drinking rain from his lips. Julian wondered whether he too, tasted of Cardassia now…

_ “You have the most interesting ideas, my dear…” _

Julian grinned against that wry smile and landed one last peck to those sweetly mocking lips before moving away.

“You’re very welcome, my love.”

Elim wore an expression which was half aroused and half tender. Julian allowed himself to be pulled along.They traveled in silence, hands clasped and fingers interwoven. Rain on Cardassia, at least the one without too much sand in it, like this one seemed to be, was absolutely delightful. He wondered whether they could one day swim in the ocean together… 

Once they got back to the shed, Elim was grumbling something about all his efforts going to waste and Julian soothed his poor darling’s suffering with gentle touches to his eye ridges.

“Nothing’s gone to waste, _mirror of my soul_. You are absolutely ravishing. Even hissing and spitting like this.”

Elim spluttered indignantly at that, but his expression mellowed out almost immediately.

“_Hair oil is hard to come by… Rain isn’t going to do my grooming any favors…”_

Julian wondered how Elim’s hair would look when it dried. Would it frizz? Puff up? Is that why Cardassians slicked it back?

“Oh yes, Akleen forbid I see you as nature intended…” Julian jested.

“My dear… You of all people should know that nature _can_ and in some cases _should_ be improved upon. Otherwise, you never would have chosen to become a doctor.”

Julian was forced to concede the point. Nature could be quite cruel and arbitrary at times.

“We should get out of these soaked clothes… No matter how gorgeous they are.” Julian sighed softly and set about peeling Elim out of his suit. 

The burning intensity in those blue eyes stole his breath as surely as the unexpected kiss.

As the rain drummed against the shed’s roof, Julian realized his heart was fluttering just as fast.

“_Elim__…” _Julian moaned his beloved’s name, “_I love you…”_

Twin blue stars gleamed in the darkness and he let himself be swept away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this love and fluff brightens your day!
> 
> As always, dying to hear your thoughts on the music and the writing! :)


	89. The Warmth of Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian has a lovely conversation with nurse Gaddik over lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Composed a new piece! [Mirror of my Soul (Instrumental)](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/613849361081925632/9th-song-from-the-under-the-blind-moon-ost-i) goes well with chapter 61! 
> 
> This one has a vocal version as well! I will post it with next week's update!

Gaddik's voice drifted into his consciousness from nearby.

“That good?”

Julian blinked in absolute confusion as Telat sat next to him with his lunch tray.

“What? The zabu stew? It’s ok, I guess…”

Telat laughed heartily like Julian said the most amusing joke.

Oh.

_ Oops. How embarrassing. _

It seemed he could still spectacularly misunderstand things.

“I meant your little… outing with your chosen.”

Julian felt himself flushing profusely. He stammered inelegantly, “Oh, that… It, uh… it was wonderful.”

The nurse grinned at him.

“Now, why does that sound like a redacted report?”

Julian was mortified to hear a delighted giggle escaping the confines of his throat. He guessed there was no helping it. Last night had probably been the best night of his life. Perhaps it was just the glow of a new relationship and the inevitable rush of hormones that accompanied it, but he firmly believed that last night had been special. The deep connection he’d felt to his environment and to Elim was… indescribably significant. Spiritual, even. He wasn’t exactly a religious man, but whatever he’d felt on Cardassia yesterday, and not only yesterday, threatened to make him believe there really _was _something beyond this physical plane. Naturally, the existence of other dimensions was known and documented, but… This almost felt like a sub-section of this universe – this reality. Almost like a soft imprint, a halo around an object left after the glare of the sun - something elusive and hard to explain, yet still there. A gentle realm of dreams and happy wishes, nudging gently; a susurrus of hopeful encouragement attempting to get realized and manifested in reality.

And Julian truly had no idea how to put it into words.

“I’m sorry, Telat. I am not sure how to even begin explaining it… I felt… Almost… Like I was one with Cardassia itself.” Yes, he thought. That sounded right. “I apologize if I’m not making any sense.” He said contritely and took a slow spoonful of his stew. 

The affable nurse gave him a warm smile and twitched his fingers dismissively. 

“No need for apologies, Julian. There are moments in life when we keenly feel our connection to the world around us. As is often the case, such moments defy explanation.”

It occurred to Julian that he probably wasn’t alone in his fledgling forays into life’s higher mysteries. It was a path well-trod by many before him, but that detracted none from his own experience, for each journey was personal and unique. 

“You’re right…” Julian marveled, “I felt connected to everything around me… It’s not exactly a feeling I am usually familiar with…” His voice trailed away and he took another mouthful of stew, chewing thoughtfully slowly. 

Gaddik made a soft noise of acknowledgement as he tucked into his own meal. 

Julian felt a sense of wonder at how completely at ease in the man’s company he felt. The shared sense of camaraderie he used to feel with Miles or Jadzia was present, but it was enhanced by an undeniable feeling of understanding between them. They both had a thorny life of self-denial and unexpressed yearning behind them, now pleasantly resolved and revolving around their respective partners. 

“Telat…” Julian said softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever made a friend faster… Look, I know I am probably horridly forward for Cardassian tastes, but I just wanted to tell you it means a lot to me. In the past, getting people to merely tolerate me was a huge undertaking. My natural… _inclination_ towards unbridled enthusiasm and rambling on about my interests always gave most people the impression that I was arrogant and self-absorbed…”

The Cardassian looked at him in surprise and uttered, “If not their interests, what else should two people talk about?”

Julian opened and closed his mouth, not knowing how to reply to that.

“I am genuinely curious; what do your people expect to talk about?”

Julian offered a wry grin.

“Well… Not all of humanity is a homogenous blob, but where I’m from… There is a certain tradition of small talk implied; essentially, two people who aren’t friends yet usually talk about relatively harmless topics unlikely to insult anyone.”

“So, any conversation two people unfamiliar with each other engage in is expected not to arouse a passionate response?”

“Ah, yes… Essentially, the aim is not to upset anyone by opening an inflammatory topic.”

Telat regarded him with a thoughtful gaze.

“I can see how that might be considerate… But, I am sorry to say this, how dreadfully dull!”

Julian burst into a laugh, his eyes sparkling with undisguised joy. That’s what you get for making friends with Cardassians! Debate and discussion! It dawned on him that this was the reason why he had an easier time making friends with Cardassians – if they were friendly; they had no interest in small talk, as that was essentially pointless and unstimulating to them. And he, while he did try to observe the custom, usually he’d get so wrapped up in what he was currently interested in that he forgot about it altogether. 

“Now I know why Garak was the first real friend I ever made! He never seemed to mind my ramblings overly much…” Julian said mildly, gaze softening as his mind drifted to his beloved.

“He surprised us all.” His friend remarked casually and Julian looked up, knowing he would take the bait.

“What do you mean?” Julian asked, curious.

Telat smiled.

“That night we found you lost in your mind; your chosen ran into the building like a flock of feral honge were on his trail. One look at him told me everything I needed to know.”

“And that would be…” Julian prompted.

Telat ate another bite, savoring his meal. It reminded him so much of Elim.

“Only one thing can make a Cardassian lose his composure like that.” The nurse said matter of factly. “Desperation. The kind that stems from feelings that run deeper than an underground river. That man would move the heavens for you, my friend. And I believe you know this.”

Julian moved his chin to indicate _yes_. It should perhaps scare him that Garak would use all of his considerable skills to protect him, going farther than what was necessary to accomplish his goal. Julian had a distinct feeling that Garak would kill, torture and maim for him - if necessary. That didn’t exactly make him feel better, but he still felt a warm glow at the realization that he was so important to Elim that the man would do everything in his power to keep him safe.

“He’s a scary individual, your chosen.” Telat said calmly, indicating that the statement wasn’t an accusation, merely an observation. 

“He can be…” Julian conceded. “If the situation warrants it… Though you have to understand,” He implored, “Elim is merely a product of his upbringing and his environment; as are we all. I don’t hold it against him. It would be highly hypocritical of me to do so.”

“Julian, I didn’t mean to imply I was in any way against your union. Quite the opposite. You deserve someone completely devoted to you, and I am pleased you found such a person.”

Julian suddenly felt quite emotional and swallowed air, not trusting himself to speak. After a few moments spent contemplating how strange his life had gotten, he uttered sincerely:

“Telat… Thank you. Just two days ago I broke the news to my best friend back on Earth, and he was less than thrilled at first… It means a lot to me that you respect my choices enough to support me without questioning me or exploding at me.”

A warm hand grasped his elbow.

“You two are a fine match. I sincerely mean that, my friend. Don’t concern yourself with uninformed opinions of individuals who would wish you ill.”

Julian smiled warmly and nodded, his eyes prickling with tears. 

“I… I am just so _happy_. I’ve never been this happy before.” His voice trailed away in a whisper. 

“It’s obvious,” His friend laughed merrily, “You are glowing with joy and purpose.”

“If someone had told me five weeks ago that I would find a family here… I wouldn’t have believed them. Zeyem, Trengem, Akot and you… I feel closer to you than any of the colleagues I met over the years. And Elim… Little Rekat and Phela…” His eyes grew misty. “I’ll have a proper family… Children… Adopted, granted, but who cares about that? Can you imagine? Me? A father?” He finished with a brilliant smile.

“You… will adopt Cardassian children?” Telat blinked incredulously.

“Yes!” Julian said enthusiastically, “Haven’t I told you about them before?” He asked, puzzled. When Telat gestured that he indeed hadn’t, Julian launched into an exuberant explanation.

“So, Rekat was my guide when I first landed on Prime… Imagine this tiny, dusty Cardassian boy with the fiercest little attitude…”

For the remainder of their break, Julian kept talking about the children, about the surgery which brought them together and his smile grew wider and wider as he explained everything in great detail. Telat ate, listened and smiled at him warmly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do tell me what you think of the music and the chapter! Always dying to hear from you! ^^


	90. Palis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian opens up to Elim about his relationship with Palis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New music! 
> 
> [Mirror of my Soul (Vocals)](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/614564107311595520/goes-well-with-chapter-61-of-under-the-blind-moon)
> 
> Ahhh, so anxious!!! The first vocal piece I've made for the Blind Moon! I truly hope you'll like it!

Sun was already setting when Julian all but stumbled back to the shed. He barely suppressed a yawn as he crossed the threshold and was greeted by a pair of vivacious blue eyes. Garak immediately abandoned a PADD he’d been reading and stood with his palm open. Julian’s fatigue all but vanished as he stepped closer and pressed his palm to Elim’s. A playful smile curved the edges of that teasing mouth and Julian followed its siren’s call. He melted into the kiss and felt an immediate stirring of arousal as Elim’s hands wrapped around him.

Garak moved away first and graced him with a positively sinful smile.

“Welcome home… _husband._”

Julian grinned in a decidedly besotted manner. It seemed he’d caught Elim in a particularly mischievous mood. Regardless of the tailor’s penchant for wordplay, the word itself did funny things to his insides. 

“I like the sound of that…” He admitted coyly, wondering how the word would taste. “Husband…” He whispered in hushed tones, almost like it was some kind of secret. 

One day soon, it would be the truth. 

Julian found he was actually looking forward to it. 

He’d never belonged to anyone before – not like that. And it wasn’t for lack of trying, either. He’d been accused of being clingy more times than he cared to admit, so it stood to reason that his desire to belong wasn’t the thing standing in the way of a successful relationship. Still, it had never been a fully fleshed-out desire – more of an instinctual yearning. Palis came to mind, and their ill-fated engagement. He still remembered the incident with the harvesters where he’d revealed his past to Miles. They hadn’t exactly been friends yet, back then. He was startled to discover that he’d never discussed Palis with anyone since. 

“Come, my dear. You deserve some rest.”

Julian was grateful for his beloved’s solicitousness and headed for the cot, collapsing in a boneless heap in a sitting position, his back against the wall. He released a long sigh and let his eyes flutter closed.

“What medical calamity befell you today, hmm?” Elim inquired cheerfully, eliciting a grin from Julian.

“Not a calamity, actually.” Julian hummed happily. “A happy occasion, for a change - we delivered a baby today! I have to admit, baby Cardassians are adorable…” With that, he opened his eyes and looked at Elim fondly.

“As opposed to adult Cardassians?” The man ribbed him, eliciting a round of chuckles. 

“Naturally! Adult Cardassians are all perfectly dignified, poised and fearsome – as you well know.”

“Naturally.” Garak conceded graciously, “I am pleased your tastes have evolved enough to appreciate it.”

Julian rolled his eyes and grinned lazily.

“Come snuggle with me, Elim.”

The brief flash of surprise in those blue eyes melted away into a soft expression.

“Give me just a moment to finish this report.”

That was a resounding yes, apparently, so Julian melted into the wall and yawned, waiting for Elim to be done with his work.

There’s been so much death on Cardassia in the aftermath of the Dominion war, yet today, he’d helped deliver new life into the world. The thought was warming. He hadn’t wasted any time in depositing the bundle of joy into her mother’s arms and the overwhelming love and relief he saw there was utterly disarming. He’d assuaged the mother’s fears and declared the baby girl perfectly healthy, offering they stay in the hospital for a week solely to have an excuse to feed both of them and make their life marginally easier. The woman bowed her head and deferred to his expertise, even though she was probably aware he was doing her a kindness. When he’d notified Zeyem, she gave him a look but didn’t protest. He knew very well that she was likely internally admonishing him for his bleeding Federation heart. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision. Contraceptive measures were in high demand lately, which was understandable. Cardassia Prime was quite inhospitable to most kinds of life, especially to helpless newborns. Despite that, seeing a happy mother with her healthy baby was such a powerful symbol of hope and renewal. 

He felt a small pang at the realization that marrying Garak meant he would likely never have children. Perhaps that was for the best. He wondered how compatible their two races were anyhow. Then he thought about his augmented status and wondered how his DNA would even fare if he tried to fiddle with it. Would his original genome prevail? Could he accomplish it? And should he even try in the first place? How fair would it be to impose a stigma of augment status on his progeny (even if Cardassians didn’t really care about that aspect of his being). If he and Garak ever decided to try for children of their own blood, would Cardassia be a safe place for a mixed-race child – especially one born to two men? Also, the thought of playing God with their DNAs made him feel strange, almost intrusive. He remembered he was helping Jadzia and Worf with the research to make a Klingon-Trill child possible and that had never made him feel queasy… Perhaps the very thought of being his own child’s architect (by sheer necessity and by virtue of nature being uncooperative) was unbearable due to what Richard Bashir had done to him.

It was too early to ponder this anyhow. Such things were years, possibly decades away. Besides, they already had two adorable children to nurture. His mind drifted to the prickly, stubborn Rekat and the stern, yet sweet Phela and his heart swelled with love. They were his family, even if they did not yet live with them under the same roof. For the first time, he felt needed by people. Needed for who he was, and not for his profession alone. He wouldn’t be an unmitigated bastard like his own father had been. Julian swore to himself not to be an architect. He would love the little ones, guide them, teach them and respect their desires. There would be no imposing of life paths, no put-downs and definitely no insulting their intelligence or their small failings. This he could do – make sure they knew they had support, no matter what they chose to do with their lives. And he assumed Elim, in turn, would make sure not to punish them by locking them in small, dark spaces. 

They would teach them better - they had to.

For Tolan.

For a new and stronger Cardassia.

For all those who would need nurturing themselves.

Julian vowed to himself to break the vicious cycle of suffering their fathers had imposed upon them, and to make sure Elim knew he was loved beyond measure. The times may be uncertain, but their love didn’t have to be. For the first time in his life, he felt a different kind of strength – one that came with the knowledge that one was supported unconditionally. He would revel in it and use it wisely.

The hard mattress on the cot yielded slightly and he could feel the comforting presence of his lover next to him. Julian scooted closer and a delightfully firm arm draped around his shoulders, caressing him soothingly. He sighed in contentment and burrowed into the safety of Elim’s embrace. 

“This is what I look forward to every day…” Julian murmured and relished the emotion suffusing his limbs.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Julian didn’t need to open his eyes to feel the body he was resting against relaxing in turn. There was only a languid exchange of mindless touches, unhurried and soft. The smell of sweet soil teased his nostrils and he breathed in deeply, nourishing himself on Elim’s scent.

He’d never gotten in contact with Palis the way Miles had suggested. He’d just… let her go. As years trickled by, she’d become almost an afterthought, just another thing he’d run away from. He knew he’d avoided thinking of her to spare himself the emotional turmoil that accompanied it once upon a time but was now startled to discover that he felt no pain at the fact their engagement ended the way it did. 

Palis … 

Palandine …

Both women passionate, warm and intelligent… and both were once sources of light. 

Curiously, it seemed to him that they had been there to show him and Garak but a glimpse of something to strive for, so they could recognize it if it ever crossed their path again. 

Julian opened his eyes and looked at Elim’s calm expression.

Everything he’d ever done, every decision, every person he’d dated brought him closer to this moment – to this man.

To home.

To family.

A sense of wonder welled up inside him. There was a profound feeling of gratitude blossoming within. Palis, Jadzia, Ezri… His life had been filled with small lessons, essential to his growth. 

And Elim – his sweet Elim, the mirror of his soul…

He’d never shared the story with anyone before. It had been too painful a wound to reopen. Now, though… There was a need to say it aloud. After all, Elim had told him about Palandine – and that particular hurt was considerably worse for Garak than leaving Palis had been for Julian. At least with Palis there had been no adultery, murder or demotion involved. 

Hah. 

They’d both disappointed their fathers though. Elim for persisting in his affections, and Julian for not persisting enough. Richard Bashir had adored Palis, or rather, the prestige her family name brought. God, he resented his father so much.

“Elim…” Julian said tentatively, seeking out his beloved’s gaze. Once those piercing blue eyes settled on him with unparalleled softness, he felt bolstered enough to continue.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever told you about Palis Delon…”

Elim offered a wry smile.

“I am assuming you wish to remedy that?”

Julian nodded minutely.

“One of your many conquests?” The Cardassian smirked.

“No,” Julian said with as much dignity as he could muster, “Ex-fiancée, to be exact.”

Elim’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, before his expression smoothed out once more.

“I know the topic may seem slightly, well… morbid… given the present circumstances, but if I hadn’t broken up with her, I never would have met you.”

At once, Garak’s gaze was full of understanding. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that she is… well… was, I guess… my Palandine.”

An amused smile played at the edges of the tailor’s lips.

“Sounds like a sordid tale…” Elim insinuated, making Julian grin stupidly.

“Oh, not like that. Do you want to hear the story or not?” He attempted to convey annoyance but knew he’d failed. Regardless, his beloved promptly fell quiet and Julian took it as a sign to continue. Julian placed his hand over Elim’s and gently traced his fingertips across the man’s knuckles.

“I was about half-way through Starfleet Medical when I first met her. We had internships all across the globe, depending on our interests and grades. I was always the top three of my class, so I knew I would get a good posting. When they told me I had gotten Paris, I was thrilled! The city of lights, love and culinary delights!” He blushed at that. “In hindshight, I was perhaps a bit too enamored with the idea our culture has built up around Paris. I expected an adventure, perhaps a romance, who knows?”

For a moment, he drifted in the memories.

“It was like one of those holovid romance scenarios - silly really… She was sitting in a café, enjoying a cup of something, and the chair opposite her was the only one left available on the terrace. I had a free morning and I had heard good things about their freshly baked chocolate croissants, so I was reluctant to simply give up. Not one to be deterred by the sight of a beautiful woman, I asked her whether the seat was taken and when her pretty eyes met mine, I felt all the tiny hairs along my arms stand up at attention. I babbled on how sorry I was for disturbing her and that there was no place to sit and instead of looking at me like I was an insufferable fool, she just smiled at me.”

Julian laughed. It was a pleasant memory.

“She had a lovely smile. I am fairly sure I was immediately smitten. Gracefully, she allowed me to sit, I ordered my croissant, and we spent the next three hours chatting. It was one of the rare instances in my life where I honestly couldn’t tell where the time went. Elim…”

His lover favored him with a strangely reserved look.

“You make me feel that way, too. When I was done operating on Rekat… My heart stopped. My mind stopped. All I could see, in my narrowing field of vision which was rapidly blackening around the edges, was your still form in that chair… I thought I had lost you and felt a keener loss than I had ever experienced before.”

His hand found its way to Elim’s jaw ridges.

“The thought of a life without you was gutting.” His vision blurred with unbidden tears. “And no matter how much I once loved Palis, losing her didn’t hit nearly as hard as the thought of you being beyond my reach did…”

The arm around him tightened and the lips closing over his own were surprising for only a second. 

In that moment, Julian felt distinctly Cardassian – he could feel and recall with perfect clarity every single kiss they’ve shared, every touch – he was at once on this cot, trembling and incoherent, placing delirious kisses on never-explored ridges; his back pressed against the wall of the shack as a determined Elim ravished him; their fingers tangled in silt as they cried their love under the Blind Moon… And he was here; melting into a kind of tenderness that he’d never known could exist. 

Yes, he had loved Palis once. 

Now, she was but a sweet memory, fading like an old memento in a box at the bottom of a closet. 

He opened himself to Elim, mindless and needy, craving the man’s closeness – in desperate need of an intimacy he could only find ensconced in these arms. His veins thrummed with love and every fiber of his being was overflowing with light.

Ever so slowly, the intensity of the touches subsided, and when they came up for air, he was pleased to note Elim seemed equally affected.

“_Mirror of my soul… my Elim… My light…” _Julian spoke slowly, savoring the richness of Kardassi, “_She showed me but a glimpse of my fate and I am grateful, for it led me to you.”_

Elim smiled so warmly Julian felt his entire body tremble under its power. 

If he didn’t finish his tale now, though, he had a feeling he never would – after all, it was so easy to get pulled into those blue eyes…

So, he cleared his throat and tried to shake off the thrall he felt. 

“She was a dancer – a ballerina. It’s a very exacting art form, and only the most passionately driven choose to make it their profession. Even with today’s advanced medicine, it’s extremely taxing on the body. I admired that focus – that complete dedication to her craft. It was inspiring. And when she was on the stage, dancing… I couldn’t believe there could be a creature so graceful; with movements so measured they appeared entirely effortless.”

Everything Elim did always seemed effortless… 

“She was the first woman who genuinely enjoyed my company. Perhaps that is why I proposed to her, after one of her premieres, on bended knee – with a bouquet of roses and a small diamond ring in a trembling hand. I’ll never forget the joy on her face… Hah. I was naïve. I didn’t think of what would happen tomorrow, I just felt she was the one. Proposing to her felt natural, easy… Our relationship was stable, warm and supportive…”

“When I told my parents, they were thrilled for me. For all of two seconds, I believed I had their approval. For but one moment, I thought I saw pride.”

A dark shadow flickered across his face.

“Then my father opened his mouth and ruined it. He asked me what her father did for a living. I told him he was one of the top administrators at the biggest medical complex in Paris. The glint in his eyes should have alerted me immediately… I should have known better… No, I _knew_ better. But I still hoped… he could just be happy for my sake. How stupid of me.”

The sympathetic look he was getting spoke volumes. 

“Palis had her own apartment, in an old building from the 19th century. Much of the original décor had been preserved. It was quite luxurious, as you might imagine, keeping a building so old in its former glory. The Delon family was… affluent. I loved that apartment. Everything in it was period-accurate, even the bathroom fixtures. Paintings were originals, furniture as well – it was like a time capsule. The one time Palis invited my parents over for dinner, I was so embarrassed I thought I’d die. The greed and appraisal in my father’s eyes was mortifying. When he looked at Palis, he didn’t see a lovely and determined young woman – he saw her family’s name. I couldn’t wait to get him out of there. The space I shared with her now felt tainted. My father destroys everything he touches. I guess I feared he would do the same to me and Palis.”

He snorted.

“And wouldn’t you know it, I was right.”

He’d never told anyone about his father’s not so subtle manipulation of events. He knew nobody would consider what his father had done to be reprehensible since he presented such an amiable façade to the world. 

“My education was nearing its end and Palis and I were beginning to discuss our future. I knew the discussions were going to be unpleasant, as neither of us wanted to give up our dreams. If she’d followed me, her dancing career would be over, and I knew that was an extremely unfair thing to ask of her. Being stuck on a space station or a ship would put an end to her ambitions, and as she was in her prime – wrenching her away from her greatest passion felt cruel. I, on the other hand, could practice medicine almost anywhere, and then her father gave me a tempting offer… In five years, I would be Chief of Surgery. You have no idea how close I came to accepting that. I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of abandoning the chance to travel the universe with Starfleet, but if I loved Palis… I didn’t want to give her up. So, I made up my mind, told my mother I was staying and she seemed genuinely happy for me. I guess I am lucky she blurted out she was glad that Richard’s talk with Palis’ father went well. In her relief, she blabbed all about how my father had asked Mr Delon whether there could be a place for me in his hospital… I paled, made some vague excuse and ended the call.”

Even now, the betrayal stung. His father had gone behind his back and asked for this favor… Nepotism, that’s what that was. Knowing he hadn’t gotten the offer on his own merit rankled, even now.

“Suddenly, the thought of staying on Earth felt like torture. If I married her, my father would always be there, ready to further meddle in my life. I would never be free of his low manipulations or his invasive schemes. I took a good long look at what my life would be like. Do you even know what type of surgery is performed the most there?”

“Tell me.” Elim murmured softly, focused on his face and Julian felt a knot of old frustration give in his chest. 

“Cosmetic surgery. Not that it isn’t interesting, because it can be, but I would essentially be spending my time tucking in chins and tummies, the monotony broken by the occasional gender-reassignment surgery or shuttle crash accident… I would have a cushy job, always be home on time, and I would be living in paradise…”

Elim’s expression was inscrutable.

Julian shuddered. 

“I… How can a sinner live in paradise?”

His anguished eyes found Garak’s. 

“All my life… I had to prove I belonged… Prove I was good enough, but not too good, because _that_ would be a disaster…” He laughed bitterly. 

“Everyone around me who was successful had earned their place. By being born a Federation citizen. By being smart enough to get accepted into Stafleet Medical… Me? I was a fraud. A phony that truly, whole-heartedly believed in the ideals of compassion, tolerance and diversity the Federation espoused. I wanted to _earn_ my place – prove that being augmented didn’t automatically make me a threat, or a genocidal maniac hell-bent on world domination…”

Bile was rising in his throat and he forced it down.

“I felt trapped. My calculations showed I would be miserable if I remained on Earth. My father would keep on meddling, my mother would keep letting him, my job would be unstimulating and every projection I ran ended with the dissolution of my marriage in less than ten years.”

“We all know how that enigma tale ended…” Elim smiled mysteriously and Julian felt another strong surge of affection for the man. 

“Yes. I talked to Palis and explained my reasoning – well, the bit I was allowed to, anyway… She couldn’t know about my augmentations, so she had no idea why I abhorred my father, or why I was so desperate to prove myself. In hindsight, I wonder how I ever thought constantly lying to the person I loved would work out…”

“Not everyone is capable of understanding nuance, my dear. I suspect paradise-dwellers are especially dreadful at grasping the gray shades of reality.”

Garak was right. People without secrets found it easy to be honest. But to him, honesty had been an unaffordable luxury. For both of them, come to think about it.

_ No wonder he’s perfect for me. _

Elim had always possessed a capacity to understand him. 

One sinner to another.

The thought was utterly liberating.

“I always thought I'd followed my career when I left for DS9... Turns out I'd been following my heart all along. I guess a part of me had known I didn't truly have a place on Earth. And when you sent me that letter... I followed my heart once more. Only this time... I learned to recognize what it was telling me.”

“My Julian…” Elim murmured and gave him one of his rare, tender smiles.

“I’m never letting go.” He said fiercely, moisture gathering on his lashes. “I’m no longer a fool who cannot spare a thought for his future, and I finally know what I need. A life without you would be bleak and empty…”

“I’m safe and sound, my dear. And I’m right here.” Blue stars twinkled in the gloom and Julian surged forward to stake his claim. 

He would never tire of this sweet taste.

“_I love you…” _He murmured against those beloved, lying lips and proceeded to pepper Elim’s face with kisses. Every ridge, every contour, every patch of skin was worshipped. His Cardassian lover submitted to his affections without complaint, even if he started chuckling halfway through Julian’s ministrations. 

“Does this mean the story time is over?” Garak said teasingly and Julian dissolved into peals of laughter.

“More or less,” Julian conceded. “I… I’ve always either been too little or too much for people. I was never merely… _enough_. You were one of the few who never recoiled from me…”

Elim’s face turned serious.

“It is not your duty to soothe the egos wounded by your intelligence, or your personality. You may have been too much for _them; _but you arenottoo much, Julian. However...” Garak grinned, using the opportunity to surreptitiously fondle his bum, “You _are_ a handful.”

Julian tried and failed to suppress a grin caused by Garak’s blatant innuendo.

The man was so delightfully wicked at times. 

“I love it when you're so playful with me - it makes me feel privileged. Special.”

“My dear,” Elim was softness incarnate, “You _are_ special.”

Julian gulped and willed away the emotion threatening to force tears to his eyes. How could this man know how to soothe every hurt? Anticipate every need? It was a marvel Julian couldn’t grasp. 

He let any lingering thoughts dissipate as Elim’s hands deftly undid the fastenings on his clothes.

The world was falling away again and Julian let it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, my lovelies. Stay safe wherever you are, and I hope you and yours are well.
> 
> As always, do tell me what you think!


	91. It's Not About the Frontier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian spends his lunch break with Telat and Akot, discussing enjoining garb and the symbolism of colors chosen for the outfits. 
> 
> Kira drops in unannounced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter to anyone celebrating it, and I hope you all have a lovely Sunday!
> 
> I've composed another piece which has an instrumental and a vocal version, and I shall post it soon with the corresponding chapter I am yet to write... XD

When Julian got to the break-room, he was greeted by the sight of a giggly, animated Akot and a widely smiling Telat who was attempting to moderate his amusement, and with a snort, giving up the effort altogether. 

“What did I miss?” Julian asked as he went to the replicator to order today’s fare. When his tray materialized, he took it to the small table and sat next to his friends. 

Akot’s brilliant eyes were gleaming with delight. 

“Telat was just telling me about the enjoinment garb Vonek had picked for him! It’s a dusky pink!”

Julian blinked for a moment and took a bite, racking his brain for any sort of context and coming up empty. He noted Telat’s flush as the Cardassian lost the battle with his joy and let it spill in a warm, if slightly flustered smile. 

“I knew Vonek adored you, but that is so sweet!” Akot beamed, her voice suffused with vibrant energy. 

With a sigh, Julian conceded defeat. He may as well fess up and hope they take pity on him.

“I’m afraid this is one of those instances when I am not aware of the cultural significance… I’m guessing the color has a particular meaning?”

Akot’s expression was perplexed for a moment and then she ducked her head in embarrassment. 

“Oh, I assumed you knew, I’m sorry, it’s just…” Her eyes were overly large for a moment, and then her youthful face turned dreamy. “Well… Every little girl dreams about their Chosen picking an outfit for them, and hoping they receive something they approve of… And then picking the appropriate and complementary trim…” She sighed with a faraway look. “Black for devotion, copper for beauty and wealth…”

“So… what does dusky pink mean?” Julian asked.

Now significantly more composed, Telat offered:

“As the color of sunrise, it traditionally symbolizes hope and a promise of future. It is a popular choice with love matches or young couples… I was surprised Vonek chose it.”

“Surprised – but not displeased?” Julian observed shrewdly.

Telat hid a demure smile behind his cup and Akot giggled. 

“And Vonek chose a dark purple for himself! I guess he sees himself as your rescuer, huh?” She laughed her wonderful tinkling laugh and Julian felt warmth blossoming in his chest at the sight of his Cardassian sister.

Telat didn’t even bother addressing her and spoke to Julian instead.

“The shade he chose represents the safety and respite found at the end of the day, as this color often paints the horizon after sunset.”

Akot added enthusiastically:

“Usually people go for colors that denote wealth, prosperity or strength - you know, like burnished orange or dark red – that sort of thing. And the colors usually represent a virtue typical for men and women, like… Magenta for virility in men, or yellow for youth and vigor in girls; though men can wear it too, since it’s also a symbol of strength… Or, if one of the couple is an artist, poet or something like that, midnight blue is a popular choice because it symbolizes wisdom and clarity of thought…”

“Akot, sweetling, breathe between words.” Telat admonished her gently, to which she flushed with embarrassment. 

Still, Julian was absolutely fascinated as Gaddik continued to explain.

“Generally, the younger partner wears a brighter shade, to emphasize vigor and the older partner wears a darker one, to denote stability and experience. Though, as you can see from my case – it isn’t always so.”

“It’s symbolic! Vonek has taken upon himself to show he will provide for you, and when you tie together the two colors as representing dawn and dusk, the cyclical nature, it’s - well, romantic! It’s like a promise of forever!” Akot clapped her hands together and nearly spilled her glass of water in her exuberance. As she frantically scrambled to right it before it toppled over, the comm system in the room flared to life. Zeyem’s dulcet tones filled the room.

“Bashir, you have a call. It’s that rude Bajoran woman again.”

Julian got up and stepped in front of the comm unit.

“She has a name, you know. Colonel Kira. And she’s technically my boss, so I hope you weren’t rude right back?” Julian found himself defensive for Nerys’ sake. “Never mind, Zeyem… Patch her through, please.”

A disgruntled huff could be heard before the call switched.

There was only audio and it was crackling with static.

“Julian, are you there? Come in. Bashir, I swear-”

Her annoyance was evident and he wondered what he’d done to displease her now. 

“I hear you, Nerys. What’s wrong?”

“Why aren’t you answering my hails? Where the hell is your comm badge??”

Julian had the good grace to flush at that.

“Uh…” He stammered inelegantly, “I may have left it in my bag at the office? It’s not like I needed it much so far…”

“Well I just wasted fifteen minutes of my valuable time trying to get a hold of you!”

“I don’t understand, the only reason you’d need me near my badge is if you were trying to hail me from orbit-“

“Dabo!” Kira cried out in a manner he could now discern to be sarcastic. “Give the man a prize! Yes, Julian \- I am in orbit! Now, would you _kindly _arrange some spare time to greet me when I transport to your coordinates? Or is that too much to ask?”

“Uh-no, of course not! I’m just on my-“ As the connection broke, he heard a familiar sound and whirled around mid-sentence, “Lunch break-“

And suddenly, there she was, hurricane Kira in bottled form, wearing civilian clothing and looking no less imposing for it, her impressive scowl softening marginally as she stepped closer and clapped him on the forearm, squeezing tightly. 

“It’s good to see you, Julian!” With a grin and an appraising stare, she gave him a thorough once-over and seemed satisfied by whatever it was that she saw. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually missed you.” Then she glared at him to forestall any reply he might have seen fit to offer by cutting him off, “Don’t let it get to your head!”

He was tempted to roll his eyes but refrained. His face relaxed and he spoke softly,

“I missed you too.” He was half-tempted to address the last conversation they had but thought better of it. This wasn’t exactly the best place. Instead, he asked: “How is the station? Still holding together?”

She groaned and her posture slipped in animated aggravation.

“I don’t know what it is with the new engineering team, I swear, sometimes I think the Federation sends us people they don’t want anywhere else! Things take three times as long to get fixed than they did with the Chief around!”

Julian chuckled at that, well-aware of the issue. He supposed it would be bad form to mention that most of the new recruits were deathly afraid of her. Her no-nonsense attitude and brusque manner put the less experienced officers in a state of constant red alert. He’d know, as he’d referred at least three new engineers to Ezri due to work-related performance anxiety in the last six months.

“I’m glad you’re here, Nerys,” Julian said sincerely, “but would you mind if I finished my lunch?” With that he motioned to the table and only then did her eyes seem to register there were two Cardassians sitting there calmly, casting covert glances their way (Telat) and looking slightly flustered (Akot). He briefly wondered whether Kira was the first Bajoran Akot saw in person. It was quite possible.

“May I present my colleagues and friends?” He asked Nerys, and she nodded absent-mindedly, clearly shifting gears into command mode as her spine straightened almost painfully. “This is Nurse Gaddik and that is Doctor Ghar; Akot, Telat, this is Colonel Kira, my superior and dear friend from Deep Space 9.”

Kira cast him a brief glance at that, likely slightly taken aback by being presented as a dear friend. Well, she should know. He had no reason to hide his respect and affection for her any longer. The days of being unduly intimidated by her were past. 

He observed as she gave them a curt head tilt, and he noticed she was trying to appear polite and unforced. 

“If she is your friend, Julian – then I am happy to meet her.” Akot said sincerely, her pretty eyes open and kind. It made him absolutely melt. 

Telat’s greeting was more measured, but no less surprising.

“Welcome to Cardassia, Colonel Kira. Please – have a seat. The number of rations we get is limited per staff member, so I’m afraid water is all we can offer you at the moment, if you’d like?”

Julian almost laughed when he saw her eyes bulge in surprise at the polite offer. He could almost hear the cogs whirring away in her head, trying to determine how to respond. This was the other side of Cardassia he had tried so desperately to explain the allure of. The people weren’t evil. He had a sneaking suspicion that Dukat fouled most of the quadrant’s perceptions of Cardassia, as he was the worst Cardassia had to offer - together with his other like-minded goons from Central Command. Regular folks fell anywhere on the spectrum, probably, but he knew Cardassia had more to offer than could be seen at first glance. His only hope was that Nerys could now see it too.

“Uh – thank you, but I am fine at the moment.” She managed, and Julian was proud to see the effort to be kind, no matter how wrong-footed she was. 

He pulled out a chair for her and she cast him a brief look before sitting without a word. Julian settled down and went back to his lunch. For a few tense moments, nobody spoke and the silence was slowly becoming uncomfortable. 

“So… Colonel Kira…” Akot addressed her cautiously, “How long have you known Julian?”

Nerys seemed momentarily taken aback by the question and frowned a little, as was her custom whenever she felt the slightest amount of discomfort. If his go-to coping mechanism was avoidance, hers was most certainly anger. 

“Nearly eight years now?” Nerys answered, looking to him with a slightly panicked gaze, as if wondering: _Why is she asking me this?_

“Eight years!” Akot said with marvel in her voice, “You must be very close, then!” 

Julian shared a look with Nerys and saw her inner struggle. He was very curious as to what she would choose to say in this situation since he wasn’t sure where they now stood. The last time they had conversed, she told him she needed time to think. He only hoped any conclusions she may have arrived at were positive, as her initial reaction upon seeing him appeared favorable. 

“I’m sorry,” Kira said defensively, “But why does that matter?”

Julian could tell she wasn’t being abrasive on purpose and wondered how her bristling would come across, after all, Cardassians didn’t exactly always respond the way one might predict. 

Akot’s eyes went wide and she stammered for a bit, trying to find the right words.

“Well… I never met a friend of Julian’s before… I just thought… it would be nice…” The poor thing trailed off, clearly intimidated and ducked her head, sweeping the food across her plate with her fork in a picture of abject misery. Julian felt a surge of affection for his chosen sister and had to fight the impulse to get out of his seat and hug her across the table. 

If anything, Kira seemed perplexed by Akot’s statement. Julian could tell she was starting to panic slightly as guilt crept in. He almost smiled – it seemed not even the dauntless Kira Nerys was immune to Akot’s unaffected sweetness. 

“I-I didn’t mean…” Nerys blurted out, “I’m sorry… Ghar, was it? I didn’t mean to be rude, I just… didn’t understand why you would care, I mean, you’ve only known him for what, five weeks?”

Akot’s eyes snapped open in shock, before her expression settled into a mixture of defiant and heartbroken. 

“A lot can happen in five weeks,” Akot stated firmly, her clear voice tremulous, “He held my hand and comforted me when I feared for my life, dying of a virus we couldn’t find a cure for! Julian has proven himself a competent doctor, a kind man and I am proud to call him my brother!” Her face turned nearly mutinous as she continued, “Besides, who are you to tell me who I can or cannot care for?”

Julian was floored by the sight of Akot’s usually kind eyes flaring with conviction. It was beyond touching to have her coming to the defense of their unconventional bond. 

Kira was gaping slightly, taken aback.

“Tha-that’s not what I was say-” Nerys stammered, but Akot cut her off.

“What did you mean then?” His sister’s eyes were blazing, “That a Cardassian is incapable of friendship with those outside our species?”

“I didn’t say that!” Kira retaliated, clearly feeling attacked, “Don’t put words in my mouth!”

“Julian may be my first non-Cardassian friend, but I hoped his friends would be a little less judgmental!” 

“What!?” Kira cried out in outrage, “Are you calling me a racist?”

“I don’t know,” Akot spat defiantly, “Are you?”

Julian could see Nerys’ rage bubbling beneath the surface, about ready to erupt and he hastened to prevent the explosion. 

“Akot – listen to me. Nerys didn’t mean anything bad. We’ve had unfortunate dealings with unpleasant Cardassians before, and we aren’t used to friendliness from your race’s quarter. Please take no offense, that’s just how things were. However, that doesn’t mean that’s how things have to be moving forward, all right?” He soothed, pleased to note that Akot blinked several times and lowered her head bashfully, her combative posture melting away. “Now, Nerys? If you would be so kind and answer the original question?” Julian asked with a cheeky grin. “Are you and I _very close_?” 

Kira looked at him balefully, shoved him half out of his chair and started laughing. 

“You wish!” Her full-belly laugh was wonderful. That said, she turned to the now slightly embarrassed Ghar and spoke more warmly. 

“To answer your question, I am friends with Julian, yes, but we’ve never been too close. When I first met him he was arrogant, oblivious and obnoxious. To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t stand him.”

Nerys caught his gaze, holding it for a long moment and cracked a contrite little smile.

“It took me a long time to realize that’s not who he was – at least not entirely.” Turning once more to Akot, she continued, “I was prejudiced against the Federation for swooping in and threatening the hard-earned freedom me and my fellow resistance fighters bled so long for. In my mind, they were usurpers, just like the Cardassians- only their methods included more soft words and less murder. I didn’t trust them…” She let out a long sigh and slumped slightly. “Now, with the benefit of hindsight… I can admit I was wrong. The officers I served with all proved themselves dependable, kind and, for the most part – open to my people’s culture. There was some friction, yes, but it was never malicious. It took me years to come to terms with the fact that the Federation extended a helping hand when we needed it and… we were better for it. Now, don’t misunderstand, I’m Bajoran and damn proud of it, but I have come to realize that pride stood in the way of sometimes seeing what was best for my people…” 

Nerys looked Julian straight in the eye. 

“Or what was best for me.”

Julian smiled softly. She _had_ come a long way. 

Nerys sighed and turned to him.

“That’s why I came, Julian. I’m only staying for a day, but I wanted to visit Garak, see you and… apologize. I thought hard about our friendship and realized I… hadn’t been the most open or accepting of individuals.”

“It’s understandable, Nerys…” Julian said softly, “You had no reason to trust us – no frame of reference. I also had a tendency to speak without thinking…”

“That may be so, but you were always kind to me and I never appreciated it. You would think that being unused to kindness would make one grateful for receiving it!” She snorted.

Being unused to kindness… Julian knew a little bit about that. Still, how can you appreciate something you cannot even recognize? That was what they used to have in common – a closed-off heart. Right now… He could see how earnest she was in seeking his forgiveness. It was proof of a friendship mended and possibly even improved. How could he do anything but-

“I forgive you.” Julian said warmly, meaning it from the bottom of his heart. 

Her chin wobbled the tiniest bit and she swallowed, nodding. Relief shone in her eyes and gratitude reflected in her smile. 

“That seems pretty close to me…” Telat said calmly, eating his lunch as if nothing unusual had happened; completely unruffled. 

As if a spell was broken, Julian noticed the tension in the room dissipating. Kira laughed and gave him a fond look, which he gladly reciprocated. 

“I’m glad we’re okay, Nerys.” Julian said softly, allowing his relief to show. 

She huffed.

“A part of me still thinks you’re crazy for pursuing this with Garak, but if that’s what you both want, it’s not like I can stop you. I guess I also came to… see you two together. Maybe then I’ll feel better about it.”

“That’s more than I could have hoped for,” He said sincerely, “Thank you for keeping an open mind.”

“Just so you know, if this had happened only two years ago, I would be here – screaming at you for being absolutely crazy and falling for whatever scheme of Garak’s. I would tell you you’re naïve and that you’re being used. Now… I’ll reserve judgment.”

Julian could tell she was doing a fair bit more than that. For Kira, this was already incredibly supportive. 

“Besides… I had a chance to get to know Garak better towards the end of the war. He was often the voice of reason and a buffer between Damar and the rest of his hotheads…” Then her face fell slightly. “I still feel bad about that lady who took care of us in the basement when we were hiding after the Dominion destroyed Lakarian City… She seemed important to Garak.”

Julian’s heart clenched.

Mila had hidden them away and died for it…

His eyes welled with unbidden tears.

Mila, who was still buried under the rubble of Tain’s house.

Crushed by the man’s legacy, she died to shelter her own.

“Mila…” Julian murmured and hastened to eat his now cold lunch in an attempt to prevent his mouth from blurting out Elim’s secrets. It was a truth of a deeply personal nature, and he would be damned before just letting it slip out for all to hear. If Garak wanted to tell – that was his prerogative.

Kira just looked at him shrewdly, as if confirming some long-held suspicion and let the matter drop. 

For the next few minutes, the table was quiet. Telat was eating his lunch, seemingly completely at ease, as if an imposing Bajoran woman wasn’t sharing a table with them. Akot was sipping her water delicately and casting covert glances at Nerys. Julian wondered whether the mention of Damar rang any bells for his Cardassian colleagues. He wondered how they would feel if they knew that Cardassia owed its freedom in no small part to someone they would consider a terrorist. 

Perhaps nobody other than Garak knew of her involvement in the liberation of Cardassia. 

He wondered whether that knowledge would shake things up. Maybe it was a political chip best cashed in after things calmed down a little. Still, a friendly Bajoran on the soil of Cardassia Prime… Would the wonders never cease?

“Akot, why don’t we head back to the infirmary?” Telat asked in a casual manner as he took his tray away. 

“Huh? Already? But Julian isn’t finished yet…”

“He will join us soon.” Telat smiled and took her tray as well. 

Slightly bemused, Akot drained her glass and stood.

“Colonel Kira,” She said formally and lowered her gaze for a moment, “I feel privileged to have met my chosen brother’s friend.” With a slight bow, she departed and Telat followed. 

Once they were gone, Kira looked at him bewildered.

“Uh, what was that about a chosen brother?”

Julian couldn’t help the wide grin that blossomed on his face. 

“Cardassians have different words for family by blood and family by choice. One, you are born to, and the other, well, you find. She is my sister by choice.”

“You call them both by their first names… I know humans usually do that with friends, but… They also called you by your first name. That’s…”

“Unusual?” Julian offered wryly, “Oh, I know. None of the staff expected to like me, I don’t think. In the beginning, Head Zeyem just wanted to use me – I was a scarce commodity on ruined Cardassia Prime… A well-rested doctor!” He laughed. “They didn’t really know what to make of me. It took me a while to grasp the subtleties of their communication; a lot of their gestures convey varying degrees of respect depending on who you are talking to. I didn’t exactly know the nuances so I just treated everyone extremely respectfully. Hah! Wouldn’t you know, everyone likes to be treated with a bit of extra deference… I think I shocked some service class Cardassians!” His face mellowed out.

“You look… calmer.” Kira observed. “I’ve seen you look happy before, but now… You’re… _more_ than that, somehow...”

He laughed joyfully.

“Oh, yes. I am.”

Suddenly she seemed unsure of herself. He had the distinct impression that she wanted to ask something but didn’t quite dare. 

“Just ask, Nerys.” He said kindly. 

She seemed startled by his directness, so he kept eating and waited for whatever reservations she had to fizzle.

“I would like to…” Her eyes were wide and she seemed hesitant, “Feel your _pagh_. If you let me, of course.”

Huh. That was certainly not what he would have expected her to ask. Finishing his meal, he swallowed and pushed his tray away. Then he faced her and nodded slightly. He wasn’t sure how that worked or what it was she was attempting to measure, but he saw no reason to refuse her. 

Visibly steeling herself, she took a deep breath and extended a hesitant hand. When she grasped his ear, a shiver passed through him. It wasn’t unpleasant, merely unexpected. 

Something too complex to decipher flitted across her face and then she smiled at him, her dark eyes gleaming with something akin to pride. 

“Let me guess? I have the pagh of a pah-wraith?” He joked, and she gave him a mock swat. 

“Your _pagh_ is strong, Julian. Perhaps it can get stronger still.”

Julian wondered whether pagh was something similar to the golden tendrils the Oralian Way spoke of. 

“Nerys, ask Garak about the ancient Hebitians when you see him later. They also had a faith. I don’t know if they are in any way connected to your Prophets, but there is a small following of the Oralian Way in the city. Perhaps you would like to attend a meeting? I went there and I had an… interesting experience. You might like it, I think… I was the only alien there and nobody bothered me, so it’s safe. They preach love and connection between people, I mean, it’s more of a philosophy of openness and acceptance from what I’ve seen, so it may not be a proper religion, but-“ Here he noticed a hint of annoyance in her stare and the quirk of her eyebrow, so he hastened to finish.

“Just go there and meet Astraea, she’s a wise woman. I think you’d like her.”

“Openness and acceptance? From Cardassians?” Kira’s skepticism was scathing.

“Actually, it’s an ancient Hebitian belief. Modern day Cardassians pretty much wiped them out and assimilated them. The practice was even banned in the last century by Dukat.”

Nerys made a face at that and her voice dripped disgust.

“If he banned it, that’s a point in its favor, that’s for sure.”

“Cardassia was once lush and green, Nerys. Ancient Hebitians used solar powered technology, just like the Ancient Bajorans. They were a peaceful people. Cardassia underwent a massive climate shift and most of the eco-systems collapsed. I mean… look at this place, even before the Dominion bombardment – most of it is a desert. Is it so inconceivable that conditions this harsh produce harsh people?”

Nerys heaved a massive sigh and cut him off with a hand gesture.

“Julian, I get it. I do. You’ve made your point.”

He deflated a bit and took his tray to be reclaimed.

“I’m sorry, Nerys… I just…” After the tray’s molecules dissolved before his eyes, he turned around. His eyes, hesitant and uncertain met hers, narrowed and speculative.

“This is a turning point for Cardassia…” He said quietly, with conviction, “If we manage a terraforming project with the Federation, it could lead to a more cooperative relationship with Cardassia… And a greener world, capable of sustaining itself would have less use for military conquest to have its needs met. A mellower, more reasonable Cardassia would benefit everyone.”

She gave him a shrewd look.

“I’ve seen that determined face before.” 

Julian sighed and looked at her across the room.

“I asked Keiko’s opinion on my terraforming project idea, as she’s infinitely more qualified in that area, and I told her and Miles that I’m…” Swallowing, he chided himself for the hesitation. 

What was he afraid of? Her disapproval? At this point, there was nothing in the known universe that could make him change his mind. He knew what he wanted, and that was to stay on Cardassia. Oh well. There was nothing to do but push through.

“I’m going to ask to be transferred to Cardassia on a more permanent basis.”

Kira’s eyes widened impossibly.

“You’re-,” She frowned and flailed her arms emphatically, “But the Federation doesn’t have any presence on Cardassia at all, save for humanitarian aid!”

“This is where I need to be,” He said and realized it was only half-true. “No, this… This is where I _want_ to be. Garak belongs here, and I like it here. I belong with him. This time, it’s not about the frontier…”

“No,” She conceded surprisingly easily, her eyes turning warm. “It’s about home.” 

That admission, falling so easily from her lips made tears well up in his eyes. Before that great truth, he was completely bared and powerless. Nodding without conscious thought, he blinked away the tears and observed her blurred form approaching. When her arms came around his middle, he hugged her back tightly and shuddered in her arms. The last vestiges of tension dissolved as she held him. Julian didn’t have to ask whether she saw him because her last statement was proof she did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this latest installment, stay safe and take care of yourselves.
> 
> As always, dying to hear from you!
> 
> Next update in a week! :)


	92. The Benefit of Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Kira leaves to meet up with Garak, Telat asks Julian about the resistance and her role in it.
> 
> Ghar reacts strongly to the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sketches of Akot Ghar I drew to be found here!](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/615488366797029376/original-character-sketching-time-d-this-young)
> 
> I am too lazy to embed the pictures today... >.< Do forgive me!

After notifying Elim of her arrival and giving her the coordinates to his shed, Julian told her to play nice and promised he would be there in a few hours, after his shift. As she dematerialized he could only hope there wouldn't be blood before he managed to get there. He never really gave Kira's and Garak's relationship serious thought before. They spent a significant amount of time together, helping Damar with the resistance. He'd read her reports, after all. But nothing in those reports told him how she felt about Garak after everything was done. She admitted she respected him now and Julian wondered whether that respect could blossom into a tentative friendship. Nerys did send Elim Ziyal's sketch, after all... That meant she did care, at least a little. He wanted so badly for his friends to accept Garak – to accept them as a couple. 

This train of thought inevitably led to the mess that his break-up with Ezri had been. He knew as soon as he was back on DS9, that he would have to confront her and hope she didn't shoot him on sight. The phaser would probably just be set on stun, but he wasn't about to bet his life on that. The harm he'd caused her was considerable and he doubted she had gotten over it already. In retrospect, he could see how poorly he’d handled it. Still, he was well aware that at the time he simply hadn’t known any better. Perhaps it was time to accept that fact for what it was and move on, trying to do better in the future. Elim had been so understanding about the whole thing. Julian smiled to himself - he was a very lucky man. 

Grinning, he went back to the infirmary.

He was greeted by the sight of Akot running an osteo-regenerator over an elderly man’s index finger and Telat administering hyposprays to a woman and her two young children. He busied himself with another patient, and they worked side-by-side for another hour, when the infirmary finally emptied out. 

Akot was tidying up alongside Telat as Julian discharged his last patient. These kinds of moments of respite were rare. He was used to non-stop action, but wasn’t averse to a lull in the infirmary. It gave him the opportunity to spend some quality time with his friends. 

“Julian,” Telat said in a measured manner, “I couldn’t help but notice… Your friend, Colonel Kira… She mentioned the bombardment of Lakarian City…”

Julian had a feeling where this was going.

“Just ask, Telat.” Julian sighed. Even Akot clearly had her ears perked for the information. 

“She mentioned Damar… From her words, it seemed as if she was… involved with the resistance?”

Julian fervently hoped he wasn’t ruining some of Elim’s carefully laid out plans by confirming words that came out of Kira’s own mouth. Telat seemed like an astute individual who could hold his tongue and keep a secret if necessary. He only hoped Akot could be just as prudent. 

“Listen… I don’t think that information would go over well with… well… a lot of people on Cardassia. I hope this will stay between us?”

“Naturally.” Telat agreed solemnly. 

“Yes, brother.” Akot said softly, with a look of deference about her. 

“The truth is - Kira was teaching Damar how to mount a proper resistance. She spent most of her life defending her home from occupying forces and was as such well versed in guerilla tactics. Damar, as a military man, was used to having resources and orders. As a resistance leader, he was forced to adopt new tactics. Kira and Garak advised him. It worked for a while… But the Dominion managed to wipe out all of their bases and their independent cells. Only Kira, Garak and Damar were left. They managed to stir the resistance among civilians in Cardassia City and had them sabotage nearly every Dominion installation on Cardassia Prime.”

He chose not to say that this act of sabotage led to the retribution against the innocents in Lakarian City. 

“Damar died when they were storming the Dominion’s Headquarters in the city, but they managed to prevail anyway. He died for Cardassia’s freedom, but I don’t think a former Bajoran freedom fighter’s help fits the narrative of his heroic sacrifice…”

“I see.” Telat murmured, deep in thought. 

Akot , however, got more vocal.

“What?” She blurted, “Are you trying to say that Legate Damar and Colonel Kira led the resistance together?”

“With Garak, yes. Kira was the brains behind the operation, Garak helped with his contacts and expertise, and Damar was the figurehead – the face of the resistance. I mean, it was a joint effort, naturally-” 

Akot cut him off.

“Cardassia owes her freedom to a Bajoran?” 

Julian was somewhat surprised by her serious tone. 

“In part, yes.” He conceded.

“In large part.” Akot said, undeterred by his attempt at being diplomatic. 

Julian sighed.

“Yes, Akot. Nerys put aside her reservations and misgivings about the very race that systematically raped and ravaged her planet for fifty years and volunteered her experience to save the entire quadrant.”

His sister’s delicate face fell.

“So, she hates us…” She murmured dejectedly.

“She doesn’t,” Julian soothed, “not anymore. She knows who is to blame – the military, the policymakers, not people like you or Telat. Still, she has been badly hurt by the Occupation and that’s not something you can simply forget. A trauma like that leaves a mark… It’s hard to let go of something that painful, but she’s trying.”

“I was told Bajorans were…” Akot choked on her words.

Julian had the impression that whatever word she was unable to voice was distinctly unpleasant and racist.

“Animals.” Telat offered quietly. “Filthy, uncultured beasts of inferior intelligence – ferocious and impossible to reason with.”

“Primitive…” Akot all but whispered, eyes tearing up, “Worshipping their fictitious deities…”

“Oh, the Prophets are very real.” Julian said mildly. “Only we would consider them powerful aliens, not deities. Still, to beings like us, who perceive the world in a linear fashion, their abilities to see the far-off future and the distant past all at once, would seem rather miraculous. I can see why the Bajorans would worship a benevolent alien presence whose powers defy easy explanation.”

“Real?” Telat’s eyes boggled. “What do you mean, real?”

“The entities the Bajorans call Prophets live inside the Bajoran wormhole. They exist outside our realm of ability or comprehension.” Julian said calmly and then smiled. “For now.”

“So…” Akot muttered, trying to assemble the puzzle pieces in her head. 

“If their Prophets are real, whatever they are…” Telat trailed off, temporarily lost in thought.

“That would mean they aren’t nearly as primitive as you were led to believe?” Julian offered gently.

“No!” Akot cried out in dismay, pacing the infirmary like possessed, “That means everything we’ve been told about Bajorans was a lie!”

“It’s easy to justify exploiting and destroying something that’s been deemed inferior or other. If something is less than you, it becomes easy to divorce yourself from any empathy towards it.” Julian stated simply. 

“It’s different… Seeing them up close…” Telat murmured more to himself, but his eyes wandered to Akot, whose youthful face was contorted with some complex emotion. It seemed a mixture of anger, indignation, and guilt. Julian watched her sit down on a cot, shaking. In a blink, he was next to her, reaching out to wrap an arm around her shoulders. She seemed shell-shocked. 

Telat placed a gentle hand on her forearm. 

“Sweetling…” The nurse comforted, brushing his thumb across her arm gently. 

“What else was a lie?” She muttered shakily, “That all aliens are uncouth, barbarous… But you aren’t, Julian! And-and the Colonel didn’t seem like it, not really…”

Julian held her close and tried to reassure her.

“Things vary a lot across species and within them as well. There’s a lot more individual variance than most of us are willing to admit. Some people will invariably be rude and unpleasant, even cruel… Yet many more are reasonable, kind and helpful. We all tend to generalize things more than we should. It’s simply how our brains are wired. Still, we are evolved enough to question our beliefs when necessary. You questioned yours, Akot, when I started working here. You stopped thinking of me as some nebulous concept of alien and saw me for who I was as a person.”

Guilt was etched into her facial ridges and he hated seeing her so anguished. 

“Akot…” Julian said affectionately, switching off his translator. “_I am grateful to have met you. You are important to me – chosen sister.”_

At hearing his Kardassi, she whimpered and dissolved into tears. He hugged her close and pet her heaving, slender back.

“_Race doesn’t matter, sister of my heart. Understanding transcends the limits of species or even the limits of corporeal form. Some concepts are universal, like esteem… and love.”_

“_Brother-mine is wise…” _She sniffled, clinging to him. 

Julian laughed, unable to help himself. 

“_It is not wisdom, merely the benefit of experience.” _He uttered softly.

“_What is wisdom but a lesson learned from experience?” _Telat added soberly and Julian couldn’t disagree. 

“_Our young Akot has discovered the beauty of the forbidden, I think.” _Telat chuckled. 

Julian peered at Telat over Akot’s shoulder, wondering what the man was on about.

“_You cannot tell me you are unfamiliar with Cardassian flirting, Zhulian.” _The man grinned.

Julian was forced to blink stupidly for a moment. Was that how most Cardassians would pronounce his name? That’s not how Elim pronounced it… But then again, the man had been his friend for years and as such has had plenty of opportunity to hear how his name was supposed to be pronounced. That thought was quite irrelevant now, though. 

“What?” He said and caught himself. “_What do you mean?” _He repeated in Kardassi.

Then he felt Akot squirming in his arms as she wriggled free of his embrace. Her neck ridges were slightly flushed and she seemed distinctly embarrassed.

“_The Colonel is an attractive individual with a strong posture and presence. I’m not surprised in the least.” _Telat observed calmly. 

“_I made a fool of myself!” _Akot whined disconsolately, “_I am eternally shamed!”_

_ “There’s nothing wrong with liking a person of your own gender… Or different species for that matter.” _ Julian said gently, trying not to smile at the dramatic phrasing.

“_I know that!” _Akot gestured dismissively, “_That’s not what I meant.”_

Telat gave Julian a significant look and smiled. For some reason, there was something distinctly Garak-esque about that particular smile. Perhaps the hint of mischief, he mused. 

“_I…I don’t understand what the issue is, then.” _Julian admitted.

Akot looked at him in the manner of a mortified teenager having to explain some romantic mishap to a parent.

“_I was so-!” _She growled in frustration. “_Inept! Like a child pretending to be an adult!”_

“_Ah._” Telat made a soft noise of acknowledgment. “_Sweet flower, first experiences are not to be shamed… We were all inept once. I daresay, much worse than you.”_

Julian still didn’t get it. Inept? At what? So Akot had been… attracted to Kira and was, what? Flirting? Ineptly?

“_Wait… Did you argue with Kira because you were trying to impress her?”_

Akot whined and buried her face in her palms, mumbling something utterly incomprehensible under her breath. Julian guessed that was a yes, then. 

“_She was confrontational…” _She muttered, clearly dismayed, “_I reacted on instinct! Ugh! No self-control whatsoever… She must think I’m an absolute dimwit!_”

Julian caressed her back and spoke softly, “_I am fairly certain she didn’t notice you were flirting.”_

Akot’s head snapped up and she looked panicked.

“_What-what do you mean she hadn’t noticed?” _She stammered inelegantly, “_That’s even worse! Does she think I really attacked her? What should I do??_”

Julian was surprised at how visceral her reaction was. Were all Cardassians this affected when they met someone they really liked? Or was it simply due to her age and relative inexperience?

He was about to attempt to comfort her, when Vonek came in with a patient and Julian watched both Telat and Akot snap back into their service masks with practiced ease. The transition was kind of jarring, their postures and expressions changing immediately. He noticed that Cardassians preferred a more stoic bedside manner which exuded competence, rather than warmth. Firmness was appreciated. Attempting to do the same, he got up and allowed Ghar to take the lead. 

She was slowly shaping up to be a good doctor, despite her youth and lack of training. Hah, perhaps being any kind of doctor on post-Dominion, war-torn Cardassia was training aplenty. 

Julian was fiercely proud of her.

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another growth and warmth chapter! Wheee! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it, and that you checked out the sketches I made - do let me know what you think! 
> 
> As always, I hope you are safe where you are, do spoil yourselves with joy whenever possible!


	93. Auntie Nerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian witnesses Kira's and Garak's interaction and is pleasantly surprised.
> 
> Kira meets the kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof! This chapter took forever to write! It's very fluffy and sweet!

Since it was a rather slow day, Julian begged off work around 18:00 hours and guessed the only reason Zeyem let him go, albeit grudgingly, was because he was _technically_ only supposed to work till 17:00 hours. Even though she seemed to take his extra hours entirely for granted, Julian knew she kept tally. Going above what was expected was a very Cardassian concept and coming from a non-Cardassian – somewhat peculiar. Ironically, he’d never felt more appreciated. 

And when she haughtily reminded him a skimmer was busy elsewhere, he merely grinned and cheekily remarked he knew she was secretly a big softie and that he’d see her tomorrow. She looked scandalized and about ready to throw a PADD at him, but he ducked out of the room and happily jogged to the exit. 

Julian was greeted by Cardassia’s sweltering afternoon and hurried home. Hopefully, Elim wouldn’t mind Eau-de-sweaty-human. Curiously, he hadn’t complained so far. Perhaps he didn’t mind? Maybe he even liked it… He fought a blush and hurried home. 

Some half an hour later, when the shed came into view, he was pleased to see it still standing. The lack of screaming was also an encouraging sign. He hastened towards it and a peculiar sound reached his ears. He burst through the doors, ready to stop whatever violence was currently in progress and was greeted with the sight of Kira laughing her head off almost hysterically at something Garak had said, and Julian let his posture relax. 

Elim’s face was at once overtaken by genuine pleasure as he got to his feet and extended his palm expectantly. 

“_I am home, my Elim…” _Julian spoke in Kardassi, knowing it always drew a smile from Garak.

“_Welcome home, beloved.” _Elim spoke and Julian let his palm linger - savoring the feel of that coarse hand with its pervasive warmth.

Distantly, Julian knew they had company, but as always, Garak’s ability to draw him in and pull him into his orbit so effortlessly remained. Those blue eyes gazed at him with such open affection that his breath hitched. He would never tire of it. His fingers slipped between Elim’s and he felt the inexorable pull of gravity, despite his mind being aware that Elim hadn’t moved a single muscle. Julian leaned his forehead against Elim’s and sighed in contentment. 

“Since when do you speak Kardassi??” Nerys cried out incredulously from the cot. 

Julian flushed and took a step back, signaling his regret at the broken contact to Elim, who had a very knowing look in his eyes. There was a hint of possessiveness, a vague look of smug triumph etched into the contours of that viciously talented mouth… Swallowing, Julian looked away, trying to hide how flustered he was. 

“Oh… since about two weeks ago?” He grinned wryly and cast a surreptitious look Elim’s way. “Though,” He continued, “I have it on good authority that my efforts before that mark have been an affront to all life in possession of an auditory system.”

Garak pretended to be affronted.

“Oh, don’t pull that look on me, Elim. Out of all the things you said to me, that one was the least offensive to share.”

The glint in those beloved blue eyes was equal parts devilish and aghast. The very picture of innocence it was decidedly _not_. 

“I try my hardest to expand your vocabulary and this is the thanks I get? Am I to simply stand idly by as you butcher my beloved language?”

That false pout wasn’t very convincing, but Julian couldn’t deny its effectiveness. The clever bastard.

Julian shook his head and turned his attention to their guest. 

Kira’s eyes were wider than her norm and her lips were a thin line, like she was trying her best either not to laugh or to not say something regretful. Julian honestly wasn’t sure. What she finally settled on was a bemused statement.

“You two already bicker like an old married couple!” 

Elim’s grin was teasing.

“To the contrary, I believe we bicker like a newly married couple – one where the fire hasn’t died yet…”

Julian blushed at that assessment and wondered whether old married couples on Cardassia treated their spouses with cold indifference rather than bickering. It was very true that – in their case – the fire was very much alive. Even in company, which Julian was fairly certain was dreadfully rude. Still, he couldn’t help himself and gazed at Elim fondly. 

“Julian, I was surprised you didn’t mention the children to Nerys!” Elim chided and now Julian had the distinct impression it was a genuine reprimand, even if it was softly spoken.

“She caught me off guard! I did plan on telling her once I got back to DS9…” He stammered, aware he was pouting. Despite growing older, he still disliked being put on the spot like that.

Nerys, however, interrupted his fidgeting and said dismissively,

“It’s not the kind of news one feels overly comfortable discussing over subspace. I understand the need to tell me face to face, it’s perfectly natural.”

Julian exhaled in relief, grateful for some of that innate Bajoran warmth he was more accustomed to seeing from Leeta. 

“I told Miles and Keiko… They were the first people I’ve shared the news with. Keiko was ecstatic about me and Elim, even expressed her confidence that he would make a great father. Miles…” Here he sighed and made a face that clearly expressed nothing more needed to be said about that unfortunate subject. 

Nerys grinned.

“I take it he took it poorly?” She assumed entirely correctly.

“At first, yes. After some tender… _persuasion_ from Keiko, he changed his mind and decided to threaten Garak with painting his face in the colors of his ancestral flag if he ever hurt me. Which is a bit endearing, but I would have liked a bit less… outrage.”

“What color is said flag?” Elim inquired.

Julian was perplexed for a moment and then said, “Uh, it’s a vertical tricolor of green, white and orange.”

Nerys started laughing heartily and Elim commented drily,

“Not a flattering combination… I suppose I should adhere to that promise you so considerately made in my stead… If only to spare myself the ignominy of looking like something that crawled out of your closet.”

Kira snorted and Julian gave his beloved a long-suffering look. Elim continued unperturbed,

“Even if that was the only way to match your positively _avant-garde_ sense of style…”

Julian huffed in exasperation, but it seemed Elim hadn’t run out of steam yet.

“And no matter how much I appreciate a well-coordinated ensemble, I fear it would do absolutely nothing for our image… Or my complexion.”

Julian was just about to retort when Kira cried out incredulously,

“That’s rich, coming from a man who dressed as an Earth vegetable for a while!”

Julian struggled to recall what she was on about, when she added helpfully,

“Jadzia called it a… what was it… water melon? She even showed me a picture for comparison!”

In a flash, Julian remembered clearly the ensemble Garak wore when they first met and even though he hadn’t made the connection back then, now he could see the resemblance all too clearly. 

It was too much.

Lips pursed, air escaped noisily and in a moment he was laughing helplessly. Kira joined the chorus of merriment and for a minute or two, they were nearly howling with laughter – Nerys was half-draped across the cot, all but screaming, and Julian’s cheeks hurt terribly but he couldn’t stop. Garak looked disgruntled which only made Julian laugh more hysterically.

“You… looked like a watermelon…” Julian wheezed, wiping his eyes, “I can’t believe you wore that! The rest of your outfits weren’t so flamboyant! Ohhhhh-“ He trailed off, eyes wide and trained on Elim’s face, “You were posturing, weren’t you???”

Elim raised his nose at him theatrically and didn’t dignify that with an answer.

“Awwww, Garak!” Nerys cooed, “You should have seen Julian, though – he ran to Ops so excited, blabbering on and on about meeting _The Spy_, and offered we put a recording device on him so he could relay information to Sisko!”

Julian’s cheeks heated at that and he chanced a look at Garak, who was wearing one of his assessing faces. 

“What admirable initiative! I am disappointed they didn’t follow your suggestion… I would have quite enjoyed removing any such devices from beneath your clothes…”

“Elim!” Julian blurted, scandalized by the man’s audaciousness in front of Kira. 

“Wait a minute…” Nerys said, trying to get her grin under control, “Are you serious?”

Garak said mischievously, “I’m afraid you’ll have to be slightly more specific.”

Her laughing expression melted away and she was once more her serious self. Some turbulent thought was swirling in her mind and spilling into her slight frown. It seemed like she was trying really hard to verbalize some dangerous sentiment. 

“Even back then?” She asked quietly and Elim kept her gaze. 

Elim gave her nothing but an enigmatic smile, but Julian knew what she had meant. He also knew the truth. The tailor, the spy – wanted him even back then. The love came later, fed by friendly debate and their adventures… The foundations may have been shaky, but as time went by, their roots entwined so completely that he couldn’t imagine any other outcome to his life. This conclusion to their story felt so natural. He gazed at Elim with adoration and blinked away the moisture in his eyes. 

When the Cardassian’s eyes met his, they widened for a second and then his face was overtaken with tenderness. 

“Julian…” Garak uttered softly, and that word was enough for Julian to say screw-it to any kind of propriety or etiquette and fling himself into Elim’s arms. The man held him gently, one arm around his middle, and the other carding softly through his hair. Julian wanted to cry out his love for everyone to hear, but the warm embrace quenched his anxiety and he settled for a softly muttered,

“_I found you_…”

Elim’s reply was warm.

“_And I am glad of it, dearest…_”

Kira cleared her throat, but Julian didn’t care enough to leave the shelter of Elim’s loving hands. 

“If this is an act, it’s a damn fine one… I just wanted to tell you there’s no need to keep it up.”

Elim stirred and Julian watched him turn to Nerys.

“Why would I dissemble something like this in front of a comrade in arms?”

Nerys’s eyes softened.

“Friend, Garak. In front of a friend. And I hope you wouldn’t.”

Julian noted Elim’s genuine surprise. 

“My friends… call me Elim.” He said with a head tilt of acknowledgment and Julian beamed. 

And when Garak extended his palm to Kira, Julian let out a tiny choked gasp. Nerys took both of them in and then got to her feet and returned the friendly gesture. Julian wondered how long Elim would allow it to go on. It lasted for about a second and a half before Elim withdrew his palm. Julian was overcome by emotion and buried his head in that warm shoulder. 

Anything over a beat meant more than a simple friendship. Garak was showing her the respect he had for her, even if she didn’t know it. 

“In that case,” She continued, “Call me Nerys.”

Julian trembled and sniffled, unable to help himself. This, more than anything, meant her acceptance. There was no suspiciousness lingering in her voice, no doubt – only a sober, solemn acquiescence. 

She saw them – both of them – and chose to acknowledge their bond. He wanted to cry and when Elim’s fingers brushed against his cheek, he did. 

“Th-thank you, Nerys…” Julian stammered in relief, feeling liberated from a burden he’d been only half-aware of. 

“My dear…” Elim caressed his face and placed a kiss to his forehead. 

“Julian, look at me, please.” Nerys entreated gently. 

He wiped his eyes hastily and complied. 

She reached out and took their hands in hers. Her voice was at once solemn and joyous.

“May the Prophets bless your path.”

An indescribable feeling of warmth welled within him and he took a deep breath, savoring the closeness he felt to the two people in the shed. It was so wonderful. Nerys favored them both with a beatific smile and then released their hands. In another life, Julian mused, she could have been a wonderful Vedek. 

“I still can’t believe you’re going to be parents! I mean, you two together? A stretch, but I can see it now… Children, though? That is really hard to imagine!” Her jovial manner was genuine, even if her words were a shade offensive.

“Why don’t we take Nerys to see the children, my dear?” Elim suggested and Julian grinned, overjoyed.

“Yes! Let’s!” 

“Why aren’t they staying with you?” She asked.

Elim responded, “We have to expand the shed first or we simply wouldn’t have room for them. In the orphanage, they at least have a proper place to sleep, if not much else.”

“Is there any way I could help?” She asked earnestly.

Without missing a beat, Elim said, “A prefab unit would be nice. It doesn’t have to be anything spectacular – we could put it behind the shed and house the children there.”

“What about you two?”

“We’re fine with the shed.” Julian said with a smile.

Elim looked at him with the eyes that were saying – _Anywhere you are - that is where home is also. _

She looked to them both in a calculating manner.

“Ah,” She concluded, “You must want your privacy… Children could walk in on anything!”

Elim’s eyes went wide and his sensibilities seemed thoroughly offended.

“They know better than to simply barge in!”

Julian gave a sheepish smile.

“Uh… yeah… It’s been known to happen…”

“Not on Cardassia!” Elim proclaimed dramatically.

Kira and Julian both laughed at that and then Elim ushered them out, locked the shed, and steered them in the direction of the orphanage. The afternoon was too warm for Julian, but Kira seemed to be faring slightly better than he was. 

“So, Garak has been telling me about the children – Rekat and Phela?”

When the Cardassian gave her a significant look, she blurted- “What? Did I pronounce it wrong?”

“You called him Garak, Nerys.” Julian pointed out.

Her mouth formed a small o and then she ducked her head. After a moment, she straightened once more, seemingly steeling her resolve and looked back at her newly-minted friend.

“Elim. Sorry. This will take some getting used to.”

“Habits are hard to break, Nerys. I am very pleased to have your friendship, but I am aware it is going to be an adjustment.” Elim said affably, though Julian noted the pleasure his dear tailor derived from being able to use her given name to her face. 

“How often do you get to see them?” She inquired.

“Not often enough.” Julian said wistfully. “I can’t wait to come back from DS9 and have them move in with us…”

He caught Elim’s soft gaze and felt a warm palm splayed against the small of his back. He loved these small touches. They happened back at the station occasionally, but nowhere near as often as they happened nowadays. In these scant few weeks, Elim had turned into a very tactile creature indeed. Julian was somewhat embarrassed by the needy heat this ignited within him. It wasn’t all sexual, not all of the time. If forced to describe it, he would say it was more of a desire for closeness. Somehow, skin-to-skin contact with the Cardassian made whatever it was inside him that was sentient sing and writhe and crave a melding he couldn’t explain. Elim at once both ignited and quelled his restless spirit. Perhaps it could be likened to tempering steel – impossible heat, fierce pressure, and then cool water… It was as if he was compelling Julian to new heights, while also soothing him and offering a respite. 

He felt alive and aware, in full possession of himself. It was a curious feeling. It was almost as if a new augmentation had flared to life, even though he knew that couldn’t be it. 

As they passed some Cardassians, Julian wordlessly inclined his head in greeting, and saw their perplexed faces. Garak looked at them imperiously and they answered the greeting to him. One or two looked at Kira with open suspicion. Luckily, they seemed disinclined to try anything besides stare balefully. After they passed the group, Julian caught the tail end of a muttered racial slur and he felt a flush of anger staining his skin. 

“Leave it, dear.” Garak instructed, in a tone that implied he was well aware of the situation and actively monitoring it. 

“I rarely heard such things… If they only knew how indebted they were to her, they’d-“

“They would keep on thinking the same, or worse. You know this, Julian.”

The worst thing was, he did. Most people had biases that were hard to get rid of. Cardassians, as fiercely proud as they were – would be especially difficult to dissuade. 

“I am also an alien, why would I be any less offensive to them?” Julian’s voice was tinged with bitterness.

“Because you are part of the Federation, Julian.” Kira said soberly. “Despite the fact Cardassians show a certain disdain for most other races, being part of a powerful, sprawling state gives you a certain status. Unlike Bajor, who was on its own and got subjugated relatively swiftly, and then systematically ravaged for fifty years. You, unlike me, can be considered an equal of sorts, no matter how grudgingly. That’s what your race and citizenship afford you. Bajorans will always be regarded as inferior.” She finished, trying not to rail against the injustice she could still feel keenly. 

“Give us time, Colonel.” Elim said meaningfully. “Give us time…”

To Julian’s astonishment, that sounded like Garak had a plan. To be fair, Garak probably always had a dozen simultaneous plans running in the background. Whatever it was, Julian knew Garak would carefully consider every angle before putting anything in motion. Hell, this outing may already be doing that, as far as he knew. He remembered the way he’d been maneuvered into getting Hejod sympathetic and wondered who they were trying to swindle now. Ok, maybe swindle was a tad harsh… Still, with Garak, you could never know. The man was inscrutable most of the time and Julian knew he would absolutely be kept in the dark if that suited Garak’s purposes. He hoped, with time, that Elim would stop obfuscating quite so much. Hopefully marriage came with a few perks besides closeness and mind-blowing-

“Here we are.” Elim said pleasantly, pointing to a building to their left. 

It was a plain building with absolutely no embellishments of any sort. It looked relatively intact and there was a Kardassi plaque next to the doorway with an inscription that read – House for the Unclaimed. 

Julian blinked and turned to Elim. 

“Unclaimed? Is that a more polite term for orphan?”

Garak snorted, his face twisting into a bitter grimace.

“It may be the official term used, but everyone else uses it as a slur. I believe your equivalent would be - _bastard_.”

“That’s awful!” Julian said superfluously. 

“It is being dealt with.” Elim assured him. “Ghemor is fighting for reforms. There’s a good chance they will be accepted – I would certainly prefer our adoption to be legal.”

“Ghemor?” Nerys questioned, “Any relation to Tekeny Ghemor?”

Elim smiled.

“As a matter of fact, yes. Nephew, I believe - Alon Ghemor. He is the voice of the new Cardassia, pushing for diplomacy and self-sustainability. Would you like me to introduce you? He’s a busy man but I’m sure he would find the time for a… family friend.” The smile was amiable, but Julian knew there were webs of intrigue being spun behind it. 

Kira seemed to ponder the offer and then settled on, “I wouldn’t mind meeting a relation of Tekeny’s, especially if you vouch that he’s a reasonable man. But, please – no mind games. I’m not in the mood for posturing and politicking.”

“Alon _is_ a politician, Nerys… But he is also a cultured man. He is perfectly able to adapt to the demands of the conversation. I shall attempt to wrestle some free time from the man this evening, if you’d like?”

“That would be lovely, thank you Ga-“ She caught her slip and immediately corrected, “Elim.”

Elim’s smile was wide and supremely satisfied. Julian was tempted to sock him. 

In that moment, a kid burst out the doorway, looked at them suspiciously and ran off somewhere.

“Uh,” Kira asked, “Is that… normal?”

“The children aren’t confined to the house.” Elim explained. “They can leave at any time, as long as their chores are done. Naturally, they know it’s in their best interests to behave when they are out, lest word get back and they aren’t allowed back in for the night. They are well aware they have nowhere else to go, and a Cardassian night can be quite cold. They learn to behave.”

“That’s so-!” Nerys protested, grasping for the right word, “Heartless!”

Elim offered a humorless chuckle.

“Cardassians have been accused of many things, but our boundless compassion isn’t one of them. Orphans have long been considered a shameful and useless drain on the State’s resources. The stigma of being _unclaimed_ is a serious one and it goes very deep. Each child is the direct product of the citizen’s failure to uphold their civic duty. I don’t expect you to understand the finer points, nor do I have any desire to defend it. I am simply giving you context.”

“You mentioned reforms?” Kira asked, clearly interested and cautiously hopeful.

“Yes. The population loss has been absolutely staggering. We need every man, woman, and child to rebuild. In this situation, we can’t afford to be picky about someone’s status or blood. It is on the basis of this simple fact that we are pushing for new legislation that would hasten the adoption process and make it a more tempting prospect. Many people have lost children, lost their legacy, and need to pass on their knowledge or expertise. In Cardassian society, the service class often passes on their professions to their offspring, unless said offspring shows great promise and catches the eye of a sponsor willing to invest in their education. This is not a very common occurrence, though.”

Julian wanted to point out how discriminatory those practices were, but then he remembered what a hard time Elim had at Bamarren because of his background, and his righteous indignation fizzled out. There was no need to voice it aloud, for Elim already knew and acknowledged just how deeply broken the old system was. The former spy may love Cardassia deeply, but he was no longer immune to its faults. 

Julian spoke softly, “Same-sex couples weren’t allowed to adopt… Ghemor is fighting to change that. I know I may have strictly selfish reasons for wanting this-”

“Selfish??” Kira said incredulously, “You’re the least selfish person I know, Julian! How is wishing to give a couple of abandoned children a home selfish??”

Elim gave her a look of undisguised gratitude and grinned.

“I agree with Nerys’ assessment wholeheartedly, my dear.”

Julian found himself outnumbered and wisely dropped the argument, ducking his flustered face away from them both. 

At that moment, a pair of curious eyes peered out of the doorway and Julian noticed they had amassed a small audience. Several little gray foreheads were peeking out and Julian smiled, waving at them in greeting.

“_Hello._” He said in his best Kardassi and a ripple of shock swept though the gaggle of children.He heard a startled squeal, a timid squawk and then the chittering began. As with children of most races, their speech was surprisingly difficult to comprehend, especially when their little voices overlapped. He managed to make out small snippets- “_It speaks!_“ , “_Why is a Jorie here_-“ , “_Should we call-_“ and “_Isn’t that-“_

The noise coalesced into a single word – “_Tailor!_”

“_The Tailor is here!_”

The children were clamoring, clearly excited when a little girl a bit older than Phela broke ranks and showed off her patched-up dress.

“_Tailor! Look! It’s still holding_!” She said happily, proudly pointing to the sturdy patch of fabric which artfully covered some presumed gash in the original garment. That patch of fabric seemed familiar… One of Elim’s old tunics was made from the same material and Julian had a sneaking suspicion about the fate of said garment.

Julian watched in fascination as Elim crouched to be at eye-level with the girl, and inspected the dress. Finding no apparent fault, he brushed his thumb briefly across her cheek and said – “Good job, Nel. You promised you wouldn’t rip it again and I am pleased to see you kept your promise.”

The girl beamed as if he had hung the moon and asked, “_Is it collection day_?”

Kira leaned in closer to Julian’s side and whispered in his ear, 

“What is collection day?”

Julian shrugged, for he had no idea. That little interaction made him miss Elim’s reply and then the girl was speaking again.

“_Want me to call Phela and Rekat_?”

Elim inclined his head solemnly, as if she was doing him some great honor.

“_If you would be so kind_.”

The girl ran back inside and Julian noticed some of the kids had dispersed, possibly to call for reinforcements. The stragglers stared at them in unabashed curiosity. 

“_No ridges_…” A boy whispered to another, who answered – “_Looks weird_…”

“_And what’s with the color_?” The first boy wondered, clearly referring to Julian.

“_Looks kinda pretty_…” A girl of perhaps ten said, “_Like living copper_…”

Startled by the comment, Julian gaped and their gazes met. The girl squawked and looked away mortified, muttering in panic – “_How could he have heard me_???” One of her friends, an older girl of perhaps thirteen, giggled at her predicament. 

Elim leaned close and murmured in his ear, causing a pleasant tingle to skitter across Julian’s skin.

“The girl has good taste… One cannot fault her for that…”

Julian was torn between feeling scandalized and hopelessly aroused. There had to be something wrong with being so forward in front of little children. He couldn’t imagine this was proper behavior before such impressionable young eyes, and then it clicked. His eyes widened and he looked at his wicked Cardassian with a glint of admiration. 

That was precisely the point. 

Elim was being forward on purpose, here in the open, standing closer to him than was strictly polite and murmuring in his ear in a manner that was clearly very intimate – all so their audience could see… 

See what, though? That the aliens weren’t dangerous? Or that they could make viable friends? Mates?

One thing was certain; Elim always played the long game. 

The gaggle of children just beyond the doorway jostled and Julian saw two small figures emerging. His smile was radiant.Rekat’s eyes skimmed over him and then affixed onto Elim. The boy stepped outside and stood before Elim, dropping his gaze respectfully.

“Father…” His voice trembled and Julian wanted to drop to his knees and hug the boy.

Elim looked at their child warmly, placed a gentle hand on the boy’s forehead and said proudly,

“Son.”

Julian put a hand over his mouth to stifle his sob when he felt a small tug on his trousers. Phela was looking up at him with her big brown eyes and murmured a soft echo – “Father?” Overcome with emotion, Julian felt tears spilling over and picked up his daughter, holding her close. 

“Yes, daughter-mine?” He sniffled, caressing her soft cheek.

“Why are you crying_?_” Phela asked, her soft brow furrowed. “We done something bad?”

“No… No, sweet flower. Nothing bad. I am just…” Honesty came so easy he laughed brightly through his tears, “Really happy to see my children. I missed you and your brother.” He pressed a gentle kiss into her little chufa and let his eyes wander to Elim, who had Rekat clinging to him. 

“Rekat, Phela,” Elim addressed the children seriously; “We have brought someone we would like you to meet.”

Julian stood next to Elim, so both children would have an unobstructed view of Nerys, who was shifting her weight from one leg to the other, revealing her nervousness. 

“This is Auntie Nerys, our good friend.”

Julian watched an entire spectrum of emotion flash across her face, covering everything from _what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about _to _why-have-I-agreed-to-this? _

“But-“ Rekat started, “She’s…”

Julian sucked in a breath, hoping a racial slur wasn’t about to leave his son’s lips, for he really didn’t know how he would cope with disciplining that particular transgression. Come to think of it, he should really start developing strategies for the future. Most people who have kids learn as they go along – he and Elim didn’t have the luxury of teaching a blank slate, their children already came with a set of values and knowledge they’d picked up on in less than ideal circumstances. 

Luckily, Rekat didn’t finish that thought and instead half-hid behind Elim. Julian was surprised to see the usually outspoken, even rude boy cowering behind his father. 

Clearly softened by the boy’s timid display, Nerys approached cautiously and went down to one knee. 

“Hello, Rekat… You can call me Nerys.” 

The boy shrank further and buried his face in Elim’s tunic. 

“I won’t hurt you…” She said warmly, “I promise.” 

At that, Rekat looked at her and stammered a greeting. Nerys smiled and got to her feet to be at level with Phela, who was still sitting snugly against Julian’s hip. 

“Hello, Phela.” Nerys said cautiously, hoping not to upset the girl as well. Julian was surprised when Phela spoke her greeting perfectly politely, apparently completely unperturbed by the idea of greeting a Bajoran. Perhaps the fact she now had a Human for a father made her more accepting? Maybe she didn’t even know about Bajor, as young as she was…Julian fervently hoped the younger generations wouldn’t be tainted by the prejudices of those who came before. 

Nerys looked relieved that at least one of the children didn’t seem to mind her, when Julian noticed Rekat whispering something in Elim’s ear. 

“Then tell your Auntie Nerys that, Rekat.” Elim answered, encouraging the boy. 

Julian observed Rekat’s attempts to steel himself as he straightened, looked at her and attempted to speak.

“Fa-father said… you are his friend… And his Chosen is…”

“Julian is also your Father,” Elim reminded gently. 

Rekat’s eyes darted to Julian and then he lowered his gaze respectfully.

“Yes, Father.”

Julian felt bad for his son. Being put on the spot like that couldn’t be easy, especially for a boy with a distinct lack of social graces. 

“Rekat…” He spoke gently, “If it’s easier for you, you could call me Julian?”

The child’s eyes widened impossibly.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Julian assured him.

“Why don’t we go for a walk, hmm?” Elim suggested, likely to break the uncomfortable tension. Julian was incredibly grateful that Elim hadn’t forced their child to speak when it clearly made him uncomfortable. He recalled his own father always made him greet relatives or business associates and submit himself to kisses and cheek pinches which made him feel awful and squirmy inside. The fact Elim noticed Rekat’s discomfort and didn’t push, made Julian love him even more.

As they passed through the streets, Elim played the role of genial host and relayed information about the version of the streets from his childhood and youth. His words painted a vivid picture of bustling streets, flourishing small businesses, all perfectly ordered, gleaming shop fronts with almost fantastical things for sale – traditional instruments made of polished wood, chimes of copper and brass, beautiful sculptures of rare and extinct animals made of spun colored glass – there was no end to the wonders he could still recall. Julian had a feeling more than half of Elim’s nostalgic recollections were just pretty lies meant to amuse the children. Occasionally, he would admit to some minor misbehavior, such as pilfering a steaming, freshly baked ikri bun from a vendor stall and burning his fingers as well as his tongue on it in his haste to hide the evidence. Mila had pinched his jaw ridges so hard for that misdeed that they stung for a week. 

Julian wasn’t sure whether that story was meant to deter the children from attempting such things or to encourage them. Knowing Elim, it was likely a bit of both.

Regardless, Elim’s tall stories made them all laugh. The children were listening to him completely enraptured, Nerys was chuckling, clearly amused and for the moment uncaring about the veracity of whatever was currently tumbling out of the crafty Cardassian’s mouth and Julian gazed at him with unabashed affection. Julian realized that, despite Garak’s claim that he hated the lies, it wasn’t completely true. 

As with most things, it depended on the way you used them. After all, even the most miraculous medicine could kill a person if the dosage was wrong, whereas some of the most potent poisons could hide the cure to rare diseases… As was often the case, it depended on intent. Lies, as Garak well knew, could be wonderful tools to protect something. They had protected him from Tain’s many enemies over the years… They must have saved him on dangerous missions during his spying career and beyond - the use of his silver tongue indispensable. And now, they were being used to instill a sense of awe and joy in his companions. Could he truly mind Garak’s lies if they brought about such a positive result? 

In any case, his days of not appreciating nuance were past. He would always try to keep Garak’s more Machiavellian tendencies in check, but he was now aware that his friend and soon to be husband was more than capable of analyzing the situation and choosing the optimal path to resolve it, even if the methods weren’t exactly something Julian could always 100% approve of. The Dominion War had taught them that. For the most part, he trusted Garak not to abuse his gifts. As for the rest… Julian could always be counted upon to be the revoltingly idealistic angel on Garak’s shoulder. 

When twilight descended upon them, Julian realized they had managed to meander back to the orphanage. With a grin, he signaled to Elim – _well played. _The tailor was the very picture of grace. 

At the entrance, an old, gnarled and hunched man stood. 

Garak inclined his head in greeting while keeping the man’s gaze. 

A coarse voice reached them.

“Garak.” The man acknowledged and nodded to a boy of maybe fifteen who stepped out with a bag.

Elim accepted the burden and spoke politely,

“I shall have these mended for you in a few days.” The man retreated and Julian noticed the boy was assisting him. He wondered just how old that caretaker was. 

Elim then turned to Phela and Rekat, offering them his palm. 

Once more, Julian witnessed the children’s mad dash to complete the gesture and he observed Elim’s warm gaze as the man drank in the sight of their son and daughter before they retreated into the orphanage for the night. 

“When will we see you again?” Phela whined and Rekat hissed at her, clearly of the opinion they should not be demanding anything of Elim. 

“Soon, sweet flower.” His beloved promised, “Auntie Nerys has offered to help us expand the shed. As soon as that is done, we will come for you.”

Julian wondered why Garak was putting Kira on the spot like that. To make her hurry? If it was a ploy, it was a bit dirty. 

Rekat looked to her and Julian noticed the boy’s soft neck scales were darkened. He ducked his head in embarrassment.

“Say goodbye to your Father, children.” Elim coaxed them and Phela skipped happily to Julian and extended her tiny palm. He reciprocated the gesture lovingly and kept it up for a very long time. Her usually stern face was smiling brightly. Julian already adored her. Unable to help himself, he kissed her little chufa, making her giggle. Then he offered his palm to Rekat, who mirrored the gesture, if haltingly. Julian looked into his son’s eyes and willed the boy to see he was just as loved. Still, Rekat moved his hand away sooner than Phela did. Julian comforted himself with the knowledge that they had years to work on a relationship. He hoped he would one day have the boy’s acceptance as well as affection. 

Elim was about to escort the children inside when Rekat broke off and ran to Kira.

Julian watched in astonishment as the boy stammered a thank you for helping their Fathers with the shed and then murmured,

“And... uh…I like, uhm… You-you have…” The last part was almost whispered, “Pretty ridges…”

Kira looked at him baffled for a moment, “But I don-“ She began and then realized what the boy was referring to and Julian saw her visibly melting at the comment. It was almost like he could physically witness the moment Rekat stole her heart. She made a sound of endearment and leaned in with a wide smile. 

“I like your ridges too.” Nerys said with undisguised affection and the effect was immediate – Rekat’s neck flushed a darker gray and with a mortified little squeak, he ran off into the orphanage and out of sight. 

Julian snickered and leaned in to murmur into Elim’s ear,

“I think _someone_ has a little crush on auntie Nerys…”

Elim favored him with a devilish grin.

“What’s wrong with him?” Phela asked, clearly puzzled. Elim and Julian exchanged a look and chuckled. 

“Why don’t you go and ask him?” Elim suggested and Phela happily complied. Right before she was about to enter, she swiveled around and said, 

“Visit again soon, Father… and… Daddy.” With a mischievous giggle, she hopped over the threshold and disappeared.

Julian’s eyes boggled.

“Did our daughter just-“

Elim’s voice was overly smug.

“It would seem she has assessed you correctly, my dear.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Julian couldn’t help but feel slightly defensive.

Nerys interjected, “It means she knows she has you in the palm of her hand, Julian. Elim is the stern parent and you are the softie.”

Julian thought she only had it half right. Of the two of them, Elim was more likely to let any infractions of the morally dubious nature slide, while Julian wouldn’t. On the other hand, he was aware they would follow Elim’s instructions without question; they likely wouldn’t afford the same courtesy to him. Perhaps it was too early to speculate, they weren’t even all living under the same roof…

Elim and Nerys were busy laughing at him and he just grumbled. 

“Now,” Elim said affably, slinging the bag over his shoulder, “Let’s see about that meeting with Ghemor…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rekat, you adorable little monster! Oh, watch out for that one, ladies... 
> 
> Do tell me your lovely thoughts, I live for that!


	94. The Finer Points of Cardassian Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian calls out Elim for his scheming with Nerys.
> 
> They discuss the finer points of Cardassian seduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fluffy chapter! :D
> 
> Enjoy!

“That was sneaky of you.” Julian noted as soon as they were alone in the shed again. Elim set about brewing their customary cup of tea and contented himself with a self-satisfied grin in lieu of a comment.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice what you did there…” His scolding tone only seemed to amuse Elim further. Damn that man! Was this only stroking his ego? 

“Sending Parmak to escort Nerys to Ghemor… Supposedly for her own protection…”

“Dear Kelas knows the way and he is well liked here. Nobody would dream of harming her if they value their hide.”

Julian narrowed his eyes at the rationale.

“She’s here with the runabout, Elim. She could have beamed down on Ghemor’s doorstep.” Even saying such an obvious thing aloud felt stupid. 

“Of course, my dear…” Elim conceded suspiciously easily, “But where would be the fun in that? Would you deny her the pleasure of Kelas’ company?”

Julian rolled his eyes, collapsed on the cot and toed his boots off to stretch his cramped toes. 

“That’s not the point, you impossible man, and you know it.”

Elim tossed him an exasperated glance over his shoulder and poured the tea into his cup.

“Just tell me what your grand plan is, Elim. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks to me that you’re trying to make some kind of rapport between Parmak, Ghemor and Kira.”

“Does it?” The scheming Cardassian said lightly.

“Yes, it bloody well does!” Julian raised his voice. “You’ve been working Nerys since she came here! First, you lured her into giving you permission to use her first name, which I know is a huge deal to both Bajorans and Cardassians, and would signal to everyone that you have a close friendship, even if you actually don’t and I _know_ you don’t, at least not yet… Then going on about the children to tug at her heartstrings; asking for the prefab unit, which was unnecessary since I could have acquired that; and don’t think I haven’t noticed how you paraded all of us through the streets!”

Elim grinned unabashedly, all but purring, “Your flirting has improved, my dear. How delightful!”

Julian wanted to say something scathing but realized it was futile. He was amused and couldn’t hide it. 

“Am I right? Do you want to build stronger ties with Kira and by extension – Bajor? And a simple yes or no should suffice!”

“You know me too well, Julian.” Elim said smugly and took a sip of his tea, calm as you please. 

Taking that as his answer, Julian decided to leave things be for now. An obstinate Elim was impossible to reason with anyhow. 

"Speaking of flirting…” Julian wondered aloud, turning the conversation in the direction Garak may find easier to be truthful about, “Why do Cardassians argue and posture when they flirt? I’m just curious, you see.”

Garak’s blue eyes were twinkling over the rim of the cup. His answer was vague, but his expression was decidedly not.

“Why does anyone preen in front of a potential mate?”

“What, to prove their desirability?” That made sense. Logically.

“Of course my dear!” Elim assured.

“So... The arguing proves...” Julian wheedled.

“A sharp mind! A quick wit...” 

Uh-oh. Julian knew he was in trouble as soon as that familiar, wicked grin spread across Elim’s face… There was promise in that gaze. When Elim put his cup down on the workbench, Julian knew the gig was up.

“Uh-uh... And the posturing is for...” Julian swallowed, trying to calm his nerves as Elim stalked across the small space to reach him.

“Accentuating your physical power, why else?” 

Garak then proceeded to accent his by pulling Julian closer, until he was teetering on the edge of the cot and staring up, mesmerized.

“And aggression serves what purpose, again?” Julian feigned ignorance. Poorly. It didn’t matter, not when Elim looked at him with that scorching gaze.

“To demonstrate desire...” Elim murmured, his voice sliding deeper in pitch and turning all rumbly the way Julian liked. And then he was being pushed down, hands pinned by the wrists on both sides. He cast a brief glance left and right, turning his head to look at those crafty hands now pressing him down. A rush of warm tingles prickled all across his skin. 

Still, it wouldn’t do to surrender so easily. Any kind of seduction was a carefully orchestrated dance that needed two partners to execute.

“So... Let me see if I got this straight, a proper Cardassian seduction ends with two people snarling at each other and tearing their clothes off?” Julian asked, trying to keep a straight face and failing abysmally. He was losing the battle and his breathing had quickened.

“No.” Garak said simply, “Just snarling... “ He then proceeded to prove his point by leaving torturous nips down the column of Julian’s neck.

“And viciously attacking your bedmate?” Julian mock chided, trying not to shiver from the sensory bliss Elim’s teasing lips were inflicting upon him.

“Oh?” He could feel Elim’s smirk against his ear, “The bedmate usually isn't complaining...”

“Then I shan't complain either... In the interests of better mutual understanding, naturally.”

“Naturally...” The wicked Cardassian murmured huskily and nuzzled against his neck, breathing him in. Julian enjoyed Elim’s intensity even when it wasn’t focused on him, but when it was… Phosphenes danced at the edge of his vision as he strained to reach the body above him. He floated on a wave of lightheadedness and wondered where that was coming from. He needed…

“Please… Let me touch you…” A plaintive whine left his throat and Elim stilled above him. Even as distracted as he was, he noticed the rapid-fire calculations behind those penetrating eyes. The grip on his wrists loosened immediately, melting into a caress.

Julian didn’t know he’d needed gentleness until Elim had given it to him.

“Anything you want, Julian.”

Julian lay there, staring up and wondering how the man could always judge what he needed even when he himself couldn’t. 

“Can… can you be gentle with me?” Julian voiced his fledgling desire hesitantly; half-afraid he was being ridiculous for wanting…

The warmth in Elim’s eyes was a caress as he climbed off Julian and moved to sit down farther away; offering his extended hand. It took Julian a moment to extrapolate what he was supposed to do. Elim seemed to be relinquishing control for the sake of his comfort and that made him love the man all the more. He slowly sat up and crawled towards him. Elim waited patiently, rubbing Julian’s hand softly when it nestled in his palm. Moving incrementally closer, he took the time to appreciate the sight before him. Familiar gray ridges framed the most expressive eyes he had ever known and he was overcome by the desire to sweep his lips gently down every intricate line of that face. He settled next to Elim and raised a trembling hand to feel the texture of Elim’s eye ridges. They were hard, but not completely unyielding, and he observed the subtle shiver that his hesitant touch provoked. Curious and reverent, he ran a fingertip down the spoon shape of his beloved’s forehead. 

Elim _moaned._

Encouraged by that particular reaction, Julian clambered to straddle Elim’s legs and sat down, feeling both silly and bold at the same time. His partner’s face was attentive and his breathing measured. Perhaps a bit too measured. 

Elim was holding back. 

Startled by the realization, Julian looked more closely, noticing clearly the desire hidden in that taut frame. 

Garak had always, _always_ respected his wishes. Despite barging into his Bond holoadventure uninvited (and arguing until Julian relented and allowed him to stay), he hadn’t left to save his own hide, nor tried to incapacitate him to drag him away (even though Julian knew he very well could have). He even followed his lead and allowed him to deal with the situation his way. At any point, Garak could have killed any of the senior officers to save himself and Julian, yet he didn’t. He respected Julian enough to let him go his own way, at his own pace. 

Even as their friendship was disintegrating, Garak never pushed for more, at least not too overtly. 

He had waited.

And waited.

And when he could no longer bear it, he’d sent the letter.

What would have happened had Julian not responded to his memoir? Would he still be waiting?

For how long?

The thought made his chest hurt unbearably. The thought of Garak, all alone, having to shoulder the burden of a crumbling, destroyed Cardassia… It made him shudder. 

“I love you, Elim…” He murmured, willing his companion to see the truth of his claim reflected in his eyes. Once he was reasonably certain Elim believed him, he moved in slowly and pressed his lips against gray ones, melting into the kiss and shivering as warm palms snuck under his shirt, caressing flushed skin. Just as he had asked, the touch was gentle. Now it was his turn to moan as the kiss deepened. The caresses were soft and loving, but underneath the gentleness, he could feel a current of desire and even possessiveness. 

He loved it.

For once, he had someone who loved all of his flaws, imperfections and little idiosyncrasies; as well as his positive qualities, his tenacity, dedication and passionate nature. Some would argue his passion _was_ an idiosyncrasy. His tendency to hyperfixate on a current project usually drove people outside of his field insane. But Garak had always listened. 

Always cared about his opinions and the mundane retellings of his day.

The odd sensation of vulnerability he’d been feeling melted away as Elim continued with the almost worshipful slide of fingers down his back. This was the man he would marry. This was the man he would grow old with, raise children with…

A feeling of utter peace and freedom overwhelmed him. He was finally wanted and he was being claimed. Elim seemed like a possessive lover and Julian found he didn’t mind that whatsoever. Julian didn’t realize before just how important it was to him to be wanted so much – to be indispensable to someone. He knew Elim wouldn’t trade him for anyone, not even when he was annoying. 

Elim wanted him exactly as he was. 

And he wanted Elim \- intricate scales, smirking lips, mischievous blue eyes, labyrinthine mind and all…

Even the lies.

_ Especially the lies…  _

_ _

For in every lie Elim ever told, there was a wealth of truth. 

And his touch was truth incarnate.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the fade to black, I just didn't have it in me to write more...
> 
> Next time, a big misunderstanding is revealed. Prepare your tissues, comfort foods, and warm blankets.


	95. What Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nerys heads back to DS9 after a pleasant stay.
> 
> Julian and Elim talk.
> 
> A terrible misunderstanding finally comes to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [What Remains](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/617628194389049344/the-11th-piece-on-the-under-the-blind-moon-ost) is a new song I composed! There's a vocal version too, which I will post with the next week's chapter!
> 
> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS VERY PAINFUL. If you're feeling fragile at the moment, maybe delay reading it.

After a quick wash, Julian yawned and looked at himself in the mirror. The sight of his thoroughly kissed neck amused him. There was something slightly juvenile about being proud of love-bites, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to care. Elim had been more thorough than usual, and his thighs ached pleasantly. 

He wondered how Kira's meeting with Parmak and Ghemor was going – it's been a few hours. Well, no news was usually good news and he hoped they were all having fun. If Kelas managed to cook something, he was pretty sure Nerys would be softened by that. Add some kanar or spring wine to the mix… Both Cardassians were good conversationalists and he wondered whether Alon had managed to win her over. She had wanted to deal with a reasonable man and Ghemor was nothing if not reasonable. Things must be going well.

With a massive yawn, he headed back to the shed. 

“Can’t I tempt you to stay another day, Nerys?” Elim was speaking into the communicator, and her slightly crackly voice responded, “Sadly, no. I barely managed to get away today. I left Ezri in command, but there are things on the station that require my attention. You know how it is, delegations, diplomats… They can’t live without being coddled.”

Elim laughed, genuinely.

“Thank you for arranging the meeting with Ghemor, it was… Pleasant.”

The way she had voiced it seemed peculiar and Julian wondered what that was about. 

“It was my pleasure.” Elim said.

“Well, I have to leave; I’ve already stayed too long. Let’s stay in touch, all right?”

“That would be wonderful,” Elim sounded mellow and satisfied, “You are always welcome in my home, Nerys. I do hope you visit again soon.”

“We’ll see. Good night, Ga-“ She cursed under her breath and huffed, “Elim. And say goodbye to Julian as well, I will be waiting for him at the station. And tell him I’m angry with him!! Now I have to look for a new CMO! He hasn’t thought about that, has he?” 

Julian had the good grace to flush at that, grateful that she didn’t know he was hearing her chastisement. 

“Do forgive the good Doctor, Nerys. And I do apologize for stealing him away-“

“Garak, shut up. I’m inconvenienced, not stupid. I’m not cruel enough to stop him from pursuing something that clearly matters to him. Just… Be good to him, ok? He deserves it.”

Julian’s eyes were prickling and his gaze met Elim’s. 

The promise in those blue eyes was a living thing, blossoming before him. 

“I will.” Elim said simply and Julian had to fight back emotion. 

“I never thought I’d say this, but I believe you. I must be going mad!” She grumbled, making Elim laugh. 

“Thank you for being supportive, Nerys.” Elim said softly, “It means a lot to Julian…. And to me.”

Her gruff voice was trying to mask the softness of the raw emotion,

“I expect an invitation to the wedding!”

Elim’s laughter was bright and ringing, and then she terminated the call.

Julian grinned and said, “Well, that certainly went better than expected.”

Blue eyes twinkled in the darkness as the Cardassian put down his communicator and approached him. Julian placed his hands around Elim’s neck and eliminated the remaining distance between them. It was languid, affectionate, and warm… So very warm. Elim’s hands against the small of his back were supportive and passionate. 

“Mmmm…” Julian mumbled into the kiss, “And then I’m the insatiable one?”

“Surely you wouldn’t begrudge me the pleasure of touching you, my dear?”

Julian rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Elim, I’m sore. I’m afraid that particular activity will have to wait…”

His partner grinned and sneaked a hand under his thin shirt, which provoked a pleasantly cool shiver down Julian’s spine. 

“And who was it that asked for more, hmm?” Elim teased and left thrilling kisses down Julian’s neck. 

“I blame you, Elim! You always did interfere with my better judgment…” He sighed, wondering whether he could possibly survive another round with the wicked Cardassian. He may be greedy, but he knew better than to ignore his limits. No matter how fiendishly tempting Elim was. 

“Maybe on our honeymoon…” Julian said dreamily, tracing patterns across Elim’s chest, “Or the next available vacation… When I don’t actually have to face Zeyem first thing in the morning!”

That statement was met with another mischievous grin and a soft kiss beneath his ear. 

“Cardassians don’t have the custom of taking time off after getting enjoined.”

“Why not?” Julian wondered aloud.

“We cannot serve our community if we’re lazing around on some exotic locale… Sipping on expensive alcohol… Engaging in acts of unabashed debauchery…”

Julian chortled. 

“Elim, I’d hate to burst your bubble, but I’m pretty sure we’ve established that we don’t actually need all of that to engage in debauchery…”

“Thank the heavens!” Garak exclaimed theatrically, “Who knows when I will next have time for a vacation?”

The thought was quite sobering, despite the humor. Julian couldn’t imagine there was any sort of time off in their immediate future. Cardassia was a patient in critical condition, and it needed constant attention. He had a lot of work to do himself, getting all his things from storage, composing a transfer request, refining that terraforming project idea, training a potential replacement… 

He only hoped Ezri wouldn’t be overly hurt by his presence. 

“I feel bad about the way things ended with Ezri…” He sighed. “I hurt her a lot.”

“I’m sure you weren’t hurtful on purpose, my dear.”

Julian frowned.

“On purpose or not, the end result is the same, isn’t it?” He said bitterly. “I can’t even blame her for saying all those cruel things to me – I deserved them.”

“I never thought young Dax to be particularly cruel, but I cannot see what you could have done to provoke it…”

Julian blinked. 

_ What? _

“I cheated on her, Elim… Anyone would be in their full rights to be angry with that!”

Now it was Elim’s turn to look confused, before a look of comprehension dawned in his eyes.

“Now, Julian… Realizing you have feelings for another does not automatically mean you were unfaithful.”

“But… I was.” Julian insisted, “I acted on those feelings without fully knowing I even had them! I let you kiss me and… I couldn’t stop myself. How is that not cheating? Or is this another way our cultures differ?”

Elim watched him in silence.

Compelled to fill it, Julian continued.

“I wanted you, yes – without knowing I did. When I told her about our first kiss, how delirious I was over almost losing you, she told me not to let it happen again… And I tried… But you were so… So frail and I couldn’t bear it… And then, when I woke up from my dream of the Ba’aten rainforest to you touching me… It broke my resolve. I broke my promise to her, which was bad, and I had no excuse. I called her to confess what I’d done and she…” Julian trembled. “She threw it all in my face… She even… She told me you were just my latest obsession and Cardassia my new project and… that she felt sorry for you because sooner or later, I would hurt you too. She asked me – how long before I destroy you with my half-baked, cheap imitation of love? I… I just broke, Elim. I sat there on the floor for hours and if Zeyem hadn’t found me and called you…”

Elim’s face was stony.

Serious.

Julian hadn’t seen that particular mask in a long time.

“Elim?” Julian wondered, “What’s wrong?”

The warm hand retreated from his skin and Elim took a step back.

“When exactly did Dax end things with you?”

The warm voice Julian had become so accustomed to in the past weeks was gone. It was almost like the person standing before him wasn’t the Elim he knew, but a stranger…

No, not a stranger… 

Garak.

_ It’s… Garak. _

“When, Julian.”

The odd, half-cold tone of voice was unsettling.

“Elim… I don’t understand… We discussed this. I told you-”

“WHEN?” Garak snarled at him, fury blazing in his eyes.

“She broke it off when I confessed… About our morning together… The morning I… The day you found me broken.” His face flushed from residual guilt he still felt over it.

A sharp intake of breath rent the air.

_ What’s going on? _

Garak’s voice was a low, deliberate hiss.

“You… accused _me_ of infidelity… You…” With a sound of low disgust, he turned away, the set of his shoulders rigid, as if he were made of stone. 

“Elim?” Julian approached, confused. “What’s going on? I don’t understand…” The moment he tried to touch Elim’s shoulder, the man recoiled as if burnt.

“Don’t touch me!” Garak spat.

Julian had never seen such a visceral reaction from the man before. Not even with the wire… Not even in the Dominion camp…

“You don’t understand…” Garak mocked, mimicking his voice only to have it morph into a snarl, “Of course you don’t! You never did! And more fool me, for actually believing that for once, _once_ in your life, you knew what you wanted!”

Julian tried to marshal his wits.

“Elim,” He said soothingly, “I can see you’re very upset-“

“Upset!” Garak cried indignantly. “Whatever gave you that impression, Doctor?”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic, Elim; I’m only trying to help-“

“Help!” The Cardassian spat bitterly. “With friends like these…”

“Elim, please!” Julian cried, desperation ringing in his voice, “I don’t know what’s wrong!”

Elim shuddered before his eyes, as if wounded. For a moment, Julian thought he seemed in actual physical pain and wondered what was affecting the man so profoundly. Then, as if some tether had snapped, it was gone. His posture relaxed, his shoulders uncoiled and his neck straightened. The anguished face was gone, replaced by a cold mask.

Julian felt a profound chill.

“Let us get the chronology of events straight, shall we?” Garak stated flatly and Julian wanted to open his mouth but couldn’t. It felt like his jaw was glued shut.

Garak started pacing around the shed with measured, steady steps. 

“You received my letter… You read it. You didn’t immediately respond for reasons I will not speculate, and you decided your answer should be in person… Am I correct so far?”

Julian felt distinctly uncomfortable with this…

Whatever it was.

“Yes.” He choked out.

“Good.” Elim said with a cold, fabricated smile. “You assembled the supplies you wished to bring to assuage your humanitarian urges, as well as your guilty conscience and you arrived on Cardassia to seek my forgiveness. Correct?”

Julian felt like he was being interrogated.

“Yes, but-“

“Then,” Garak cut him off emotionlessly, “You gave me gifts…” This narrative thread seemed to make Garak pause to regroup, clearly struggling for a moment, before the turmoil evaporated from his gaze. He continued in the same, even tone.

“You stayed on Cardassia. You served. You learned more about my culture every day. You sought me out and confided in me… Isn’t that right?”

The cold, piercing eyes wouldn’t let him speak anything other than a whispered – 

“Yes…”

“We were intimate. Even before that day when I found you lost in your mind.”

“You know we were.” Julian couldn’t help but frown. What was Garak getting at?

“I see.” Garak said simply, standing still for a moment.

“Well, I don’t!” Julian said imploringly, “You’re trying to tell me something, and the way you’re going about it is starting to feel like a punishment of some sort. Why don’t you stop playing games with me and just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it!”

“Games…” Garak huffed, eyes blazing in the darkness. “Has it ever occurred to you, Doctor; that some things are not easily fixed, no matter how much kindness or medical knowledge you throw at them?”

“Elim… Please. We can behave like reasonable adults and discuss this in a constructive manner, can’t we?”

Garak looked him straight in the eye and laughed. It was a profoundly chilling sort of laughter that settled deep in Julian’s blood, turning it into tar. The world around him was getting dimmer somehow.

“Kelas was right…” Garak muttered, gaze suddenly miles away. “I didn’t want to listen… There were too many coincidences, surely – to be coincidental…” He laughed again, choking on it. “My hubris! My desire! Of course… Oh Enabran, you needn’t gloat!”

Julian realized at once that something must be terribly wrong if Elim was calling out to the specter of his father. His heart was hammering in his chest, but his limbs felt frozen and numb. 

“What have you done, Julian… What have you done to me…” Elim’s eyes filled with fear and his voice broke.

Julian stood by impotently, keenly aware of the moment Elim’s heart cracked before his eyes. 

His entire body trembled in response. He wanted so desperately to reach out, to take Elim’s pain away, but he simply couldn’t move. A little voice in the back of his mind was telling him that any wrong move - no matter how small - would be disastrous right now. 

“_Mirror of my soul_…” Julian tried and Garak’s impossibly wide eyes locked onto his. 

“Don’t say it!” Elim cried, his heart visibly shattering for Julian to see. “You don’t mean it… You cannot possibly mean it!” With that, the tailor collapsed against the door, barely holding himself upright and breathing heavily. Julian was worried.

“Elim… You’re hyperventilating, please-“

His advice was interrupted by a sob so soul-wrenching that he gasped in pain. 

He could feel it. 

The anguish.

It languished in the air like a thick, impenetrable fog.

“It was only in my mind…” Elim whispered and his legs gave out. Julian watched in horror as Garak sank to his knees, both palms splayed against the door. His head was bowed low and strands of hair obscured his face. The low, choked whimper reminded Julian of the keen Elim had made when crying over Ziyal, except this time it felt even worse. 

Finally able to push past his paralysis, Julian rushed to Elim’s side and knelt next to him, scuffing his knees on the floor even through his light cotton trousers. He ignored the sting of flayed skin and reached out to touch Elim, then thought better of it. He was told not to touch… 

But he wanted to. He needed to soothe the man he loved through whatever this was – a bout of paranoia? A panic attack? 

“Elim, please… Tell me what to do.” Julian hoped his imploring would have an effect since he was running out of ideas. He was trying not to aggravate the man further, but this was beginning to feel like navigating a minefield blindfolded. 

Garak either hadn’t heard him, or was actively ignoring him. 

“How did you know the words… How…” Garak muttered in an anguished, broken voice. “Emerald – so decadent, lush… No Cardassian would choose the color – it’s too Hebitian by far, too vibrant… Brazen and bold…And burgundy… So proud to think you knew me well enough to choose it – power and stability, a service color… The permanence and wisdom that endures, unchanged by the passage of times…” His bitter laugh seemed strained and strange. 

“My dear…” Garak muttered, sliding palms down the door until they rested on the ground, limply by his sides. The odd tilt of his head made him look almost soulless. 

“Do you even know what twinned gifts are?” 

For a moment, the look in Elim’s eyes was almost painfully compassionate.

“Yes,” Julian said easily. “Cardassians use them for courtship, to propose.”

For the briefest of moments, Elim’s eyes reflected hope.

“Tell me what they are, Julian…”

There was a desperate plea in those words, a prayer for deliverance.

Unsure why Elim wanted the information, Julian nonetheless felt compelled to answer; if only to keep him engaged in conversation. 

“Well… Vonek proposed to Telat and he was giving him two bottles of kanar, a specific vintage – 2327.”

“Ah.” Garak smiled, more genuinely. “A very sweet year. An expensive gift.”

“Really?” Julian asked, hoping Elim would keep talking.

“Oh yes. The seriousness of someone’s proposal can be measured, among other things, by how expensive or rare the gifts are… The first twinned gift, the gift of food, or drink, sometimes… The other measure of worth is how specific it is to the person courted… I presume Telat enjoys the vintage?” Garak said mildly and Julian indicated yes with his chin.

“What else did Vonek give Telat?” Elim asked sweetly. 

There was something odd about his tone, but Julian was only glad Elim was willing to talk.

“A second-edition Preloc.”

Garak’s eye ridge quirked and his face revealed appraisal. 

“Another prized gift. Ah, but that is a Union gift, my dear. It comes after the first and second twinned gifts… Usually a, what would you call them… _Objet d’art_? Yes, an artifact of some kind, an artwork, usually the older the better… It is the first item placed in the home of the newly enjoined. It is supposed to symbolize the enduring of bonds… We may die, but our literature will endure…”

“Sounds romantic…” Julian attempted to lighten the mood.

“It should hold monetary value, in case the couple falls on hard times. An investment for the future, if you will.” Garak explained, slightly detached.

“Makes sense.” Julian agreed, trying to appear agreeable and soothing, even if he felt very discomfited.

“What did Vonek get Telat for his second twinned gift?” Elim asked airily. 

His tone was disconcerting, but Julian felt like he had no choice.

“I, uh… I’m not sure he told me.” He tried to hide the fact he had no idea what the second gift was supposed to be.

Garak showed clear surprise. 

“Aren’t you friends? I thought he would discuss his enjoinment garb with you.”

Julian’s eyes widened as relief coursed through him.

“Oh, yes! I forgot – he did! We discussed it this morning!” Elim still looked interested, so he continued, “Vonek chose a dusky pink for Telat and a dark purple for himself. Akot explained the symbolism to me; I was told it was very romantic.”

Garak scoffed. 

“It’s a cliché, Doctor. Blind fools in love choose things so obvious.”

“What’s wrong with being in love, Elim?” Julian asked, feeling prickly.

The look he was given made him feel insignificant and small.

“Haven’t I taught you anything?” Each word dripped disappointment.

Julian found it utterly unbearable. 

He knew he was missing something; something crucial – something big. But he couldn’t puzzle out what it was.

“Once again, Doctor – you have all the information you need and no wherewithal to make sense of it.”

Julian didn’t know what to say.

“I expected better…” Garak sighed. 

“What am I missing, Elim?” Julian said softly. “If we are to marry and make a family, aren’t we supposed to be able to speak in a less convoluted manner? You cannot always expect me to infer everything from whatever crumbs you deign to scatter over my table.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Julian regretted uttering them. The amount of pain in the subtle play of muscle on Elim’s face was staggering. Julian had seen Elim panic before and he had seen him angry, even furious… He had watched him grieve, and he had witnessed him in crippling pain. This though…

It was a look beyond pain; transcending into an agony so vast it gripped his heart with a painful, almost physical sensation. 

“One last hint for my favorite student, then…” Garak chuckled, in a way that teetered on the edge of insane.

“In the old days, dear Doctor, there were no ready-made garments to purchase for one’s enjoining… The supplicant would bring his Chosen cloth of suitable quality and color, to fashion into enjoining garments for them both. This was, naturally, the future wife’s work. The husband picked the colors, but the wife picked the trim. It was up to her to finish the garb with her skill and insight – to put finishing touches on the suits…”

_ “I’m an unfinished man, Doctor…” _

Julian trembled, eyes blown wide.

“Is that a glimmer of understanding I see?” Garak smirked, “Do tell, my _dear_.”

“A gift of food…” Julian murmured, trying to piece together the information he had, “Followed by a gift of cloth…”

Garak’s eyes twinkled madly in the darkness, the only thing bright in the room were his gleaming teeth. It made Julian shiver. This wasn’t like Elim at all. 

Because… it wasn’t Elim.

It was-

Garak.

The kind of Garak, he realized, he hadn’t ever actually had the chance to meet, because the tailor had always moderated himself to present a nicer façade. This seemed like the kind of Garak he would have run away from, the Order’s operative in his prime – the son of Tain. 

“What was it that you gave me when you first arrived?” Garak prompted in a voice that implied he was being toyed with.

“I brought the supplies-“

Garak tsked in disappointment.

“And you were doing so well…” He mocked, “No. I am not referring to your little bribe to get back into my good graces. Cardassia has always been my greatest weakness, as you well know.”

Julian felt flayed open. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable since the day Ezri’s words left him an unresponsive wreck. 

“I gave you…” The intake of breath was staggered and left him disoriented. 

“I did wonder, you know…” Garak went on as if Julian’s presence had suddenly been rendered obsolete, “The chocolates were a nice surprise – my favorites. I had dismissed the fact there were two packs; indeed, the thought of you arriving with a twinned gift was more of a crazy, delusional thought that flitted across my mind.”

“I didn’t bring you two,” Julian blurted out, “I brought you three-uh“ He clamped his mouth shut, afraid he had just inadvertently made things worse for himself.

Garak’s gaze sharpened.

“Three?”

“I gave one to Rekat for guiding me…”

Garak’s face changed expressions alarmingly fast. Julian couldn’t possibly keep up to analyze them all.

A hysterical, strained laughter bubbled out of Garak’s throat. 

It was the single most terrifying thing Julian had ever heard. 

“Oh, oh dear… Oh, my poor dear… You know nothing, do you?” Garak said in such a patronizing manner it made Julian’s blood curdle. 

He had to think; puzzle this out before Elim got even worse than he already was, never mind the fact he had a retort at the ready. Julian was determined not to let Elim derail his train of thought. 

For both of their sakes. 

“I gave you two packs of chocolates and two bolts of cloth…”

“And I welcomed you to share my hearth and my home.” Elim said simply. 

Julian could tell when he was being addressed by either. 

Except that was wrong, wasn’t it?

Garak had always been Elim.

And Elim had always been Garak.

There were no comfortable distinctions, no fractured personalities. 

Only a deeply hurt man who tried his best to cope with the reality he was given.

Julian tried to keep a firm grasp on that thought, no matter how hurtful Garak was being to them both at the moment.

Twinned gifts of food and cloth.

He had given Elim something that could have been misconstrued as…

Julian covered his mouth with his trembling palm.

He had proposed without even knowing it. 

The proper Cardassian way. 

Obliviously.

“I proposed to you, didn’t I?” Julian blurted, unable to keep the discovery to himself.

And Garak, he…

“And you accepted…”

Garak gave him a smirk, the shed filling with his ominous chuckles. He raised his hands slowly, almost like an animated corpse and gave Julian a slow, thundering clap that failed to echo in the cramped space.

“Bravo, Doctor. You are only, oh- six weeks too late?”

Julian wanted to speak, but nothing came to mind. 

Garak’s tone was amused.

“I even graciously gave you an out if you wanted it… Oh, Enabran is laughing now.”

Julian willed his mind into furious overdrive when it hit him-

_ “You are allowed to change your mind…” _

_ “You are allowed to change…” _

_ “You are allowed…” _

_ _

Julian choked.

“You know, I was always amused by the fact I could read your mental processes clearly on your face.” Garak said candidly. “It was one of your more endearing qualities.”

The implication was obvious.

Not so endearing anymore. 

“Elim… I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to raise a family, rebuild Cardassia… So what if I proposed out of order? So what if we’re already engaged? I want to marry you anyways!”

The mask of condescending amusement shattered and Garak growled in fury,

“Engaged?” The Cardassian sprang to his feet, enraged beyond measure. 

Julian got up off the floor not to be at a height disadvantage, watching Garak pace for a few moments and then turn abruptly.

“We’re not engaged, Julian!” Garak snarled like a wounded animal, “We’re enjoined!”

Julian stopped dead in his tracks. It stung like a slap.

How?

And more importantly,

_ When? _

His mind went into overdrive. 

If the chocolates and the cloth were… Then that meant…

“The suits…” He whispered, puzzle pieces falling into place and forming a terrifying picture.

The wonderful suits Elim made for them…

_ “You are allowed to change your mind…” _

Elim had thought…

_ He thought I wanted to break-off the engagement… _

All the anguish, the hunched shoulders, hiding the garments like it was too painful to look at them with Julian in the room-

“This is how your son finally falls from grace, Enabran! Destroyed by sentimentality, as you always suspected!” Garak laughed and laughed and Julian’s heart trembled at the unhinged sight.

“And you still don’t know the half of it, Doctor!” Garak wheezed, clutching his middle. “Oh, no… Julian Bashir cannot possibly make a simple mistake… When men like us make mistakes, Doctor - they are catastrophic!”

It was, wasn’t it – catastrophic? 

Julian hadn’t only cheated on Ezri, he had unknowingly been cheating on Garak as well. All this time, Garak was operating under the assumption that they were engaged – that they had been engaged ever since Julian came to Cardassia. Looking back, how many mixed signals had Garak received from him? The gentleness, the teasing… The kisses… The way he pulled back, which shattered Elim… 

And Ghemor….

Ghemor told him! 

_ “Bashir, Elim chose you. He would never dishonor you by carrying a dalliance behind your back.” _

He was told, and he still didn’t understand…

Suddenly, a billion other instances came to mind – 

Zeyem-

_ “Bliss in the nest, I suppose.” _

Ghemor, back at the celebration-

_ “There are our lovebirds! Do you need a metric? Should I come back later?” _

Akot’s sweet laughter -

_ “If you spoke Kardassi, I’m pretty sure there would be a line of people at our doors, trying to court you!” _

_ “Well, I am taken, so they wouldn’t have any luck.” _

_ “Good thing, too! That might be the only thing deterring the mob!” _

Even Telat –

_ “Well, it’s not every day that an alien courts a Cardassian… Especially not on Prime. I mean, mixed unions are not unheard of, but they are certainly rare enough to spark interest.” _

And when he commented on what Julian had thought was a date-

_ “I meant your little… outing with your chosen.” _

Over and over across his memories, the word Chosen leapt out at him-

_ “Your chosen will be all right. Just be patient for a little while longer.” _

_ “Sit down, Garak. And for the love of Akleen, allow your chosen to heal that cut or I’ll never hear the end of it.” _

_ “You need not apologize for the affection you hold towards your chosen, Bashir.” _

Julian was shivering – it had been there all along! In the background-

Was this why they didn’t toss him out of the hospital despite not being Elim’s kin?

Did Parmak tell them they were-

_ “He will have something nice to wake up to.” _

Oh how differently that sentence read now! 

“And what you’ve done to dear, sweet Kelas… Did you know, my oath-breaking viper, what it means to give all three gifts at once?”

Julian shook his head impotently, stung by the barb.

“Of course not. You gave me two.” Garak waved his hand dismissively, “Offering the first twinned gift is a token of affection and a statement that one wishes to enjoin. If the gift is accepted, the suitor knows he is being considered for marriage. This is usually followed by a courtship, where the pair attempts to ascertain their suitability as a match. Both twinned gifts are usually offered at the same time only if the couple in question has already had what could be considered a courting period. I’d say seven years of shameless debates and shared secrets qualify. Now, two gifts at once mean an answer is expected within a reasonable time frame, usually a month.”

“But… You didn’t wait a month…” Julian muttered.

“No, I did not. What does that tell you?”

That told Julian that Elim… 

Despite the distance and the strained friendship…

Despite the unexpectedness of it all…

Despite them never having a romantic relationship at all-

Elim had accepted without a second thought.

Tears welled in Julian’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Elim! I didn’t know!”

Garak laughed airily.

“A month before you came, Julian… I was not feeling particularly well.” The tone was utterly indifferent, but it cut like broken glass. 

“I had run out of excuses for your silence. There are only so many Universe-shattering emergencies you could have on your plate… Only so many holosuite adventures you could immerse yourself in… No… I was feeling particularly miserable and concluded you either didn’t care enough to read it, or couldn’t be bothered to reply to it.”

Julian wanted to defend himself, but Garak simply kept talking.

“Despite my earnest plea for your company, you weren’t here…” The words were tinged with genuine emotion.

“But dear Kelas… was.”

Julian grit his teeth.

“He offered me respite and warmth.”

Julian didn’t want to hear any more.

“So I took it.”

Julian closed his eyes, like a little child who hoped the monsters would go away if he couldn’t see them anymore.

“Oh, do get your human mind out of the gutter, Doctor! He kissed me – only the once, and held my hand. And yes, holding hands is rather intimate for Cardassians, far more intimate than it is for your species, but if there’s one thing that man cannot be faulted with, it’s impropriety. As soon as it was over he asked me what I would do if he presented me with all three gifts at once.” His voice was full of something painfully bittersweet, “Nobody but the most besotted of fools would offer all three gifts at once. It is not done. It is the most vulnerable you can lay your heart to another – here, this is all of me; do with me as you will!”

Garak’s breathing was harsher now.

“I told him I would have to see the gifts… It was meant to be playful, but he was serious. I was forced, at that moment, to think about what I wanted for my future. Did I wish to wait for someone who never expressed any desire for me beyond the amusement of a fine literary debate? Or would I settle for someone who actually wished to spend time with me, despite knowing how deeply flawed and irredeemably guilty I was?”

“I see you, Elim; and I don’t care about your flaws!” Julian said hotly.

Garak chuckled darkly,

“Oh, but you should… Even now, I am ripping into your tender heart and you’re letting me do as I will…”

“What should I do instead, Garak? Tell me!”

Garak ignored his plea and went on, undisturbed.

“Kelas doesn’t let me forget my sins. They are forever reflected in his eyes. It is a rather effective check for my darker tendencies, I must admit… Even if it is far less stimulating than the fiery, impassioned debates you used to engage with me in. You have always been remarkably Cardassian in some aspects, my dear… And Kelas’ patience and gentle admonishment are distinctly un-Cardassian… he is remarkably even-tempered, just like Tolan… My doctors…” Garak smirked. “I have conflated you two… You have seen as much for yourself.”

“But you didn’t choose him, did you?” Julian said shrewdly, trying his hardest to stay afloat. “I came, offered you gifts, and you accepted immediately!”

“You have been my weakness for a while now, you know this. I wasn’t thinking with my head, as a proper Cardassian should. A proper Cardassian would chide Kelas for his openness, but with the choice between a man of scale and bone, and the distant shimmer of the Taluvian Constellations, anyone even remotely in their right mind would choose the former. Yet… One shimmer of your bewitching eyes and I accepted your offer like a blind, weak fool that I am.”

“Elim… Do you think I would mind being enjoined to you? Well, I don’t! I want us to be enjoined, and I don’t care how it came about, so would you please stop this? I know you love me!”

Garak made an amused little sound, which sounded quite demented.

“That is the crux of the matter, isn’t it? Kelas had all of his gifts assembled, and the fabrics were due to arrive on the transport a week after you unexpectedly showed up. Imagine that, dear Doctor! A week of sweet anticipation left, only to walk into your future spouse’s shed and find him engaged to another man!”

Garak’s giggles reverberated grotesquely in the confined space. 

Julian mind went immediately to the night in question. Kelas’ reaction to the tarp covered fabrics…

So Elim had covered them up to spare Kelas the unpleasant surprise…

_ “It’s very beautiful… It will look marvelous on you, Elim.” _

Julian knew Kelas had been suffering, but this was so much worse…

“Incidentally, he had chosen midnight blue for me. In acknowledgment of my oft unexpressed virtue… It was a flattering choice, perhaps too flattering for a man with so much blood on his hands. But you, oh! You brought me a deep, dark red; worthy of my stained hands – an acknowledgment of my flaws and virtues alike. Where Kelas offered redemption and hope, you offered _acceptance_. How could I not grab that with both hands when it was offered? Like a greedy child, gorging himself on freshly baked ikri buns!”

It couldn’t be… Was Elim still chasing his forgiveness? 

“Oh, poor Kelas!” Elim lamented theatrically, “The first twinned gift he had assembled for me – two crates of assorted Cardassian foods, how painstakingly he had traded for them, bit by bit… Only to be overshadowed by a simple confection you bought unthinkingly!”

“Elim, you’re taking this too far, please…”

“He was so very brave!” Garak continued, “Putting on his stoic mask and preparing a celebratory dinner for our engagement using his own twinned gift! Now that, my dear, _that_ is a Cardassian sacrifice worthy of a novel!”

Julian’s lips trembled.

“What?” 

The gleam in Garak’s eyes was manic.

“Just imagine, Doctor! All his efforts wasted, all his hopes scattered to the winds; all the while being forced to watch us, happily sipping water from the same bowl! Ah, but I suppose you have no idea what that means, do you? Your confused face says it all. Oh yes, and that guilty look is quite marvelous too.” Garak seemed hell-bent on driving the dagger home.

“The happy couple shares the same water… And the same food. And the witnesses do too, to acknowledge the bond.”

Julian whimpered.

“I hurt you both, I get it! I messed up big time, I know that now! Why are you doing this to me?” Julian choked out, unmindful of the tears streaming down his face.

“Oh, no… Your transgression is even worse than that, my beloved… Much worse…”

“Well, what is it? Is there truly a need for all the dramatics? Just tell me and be done with it!”

Garak turned serious.

“As you wish, Doctor. Let me speak plainly, so there is no chance of further misunderstandings.”

“Thank you.” Julian said, trying to suppress his trembling.

“Not only did you propose to me while still in a relationship… Not only did you break bonds between yourself and young Dax, but you also managed to destroy Kelas, and by consequence – me. I see I need to speak in even smaller words, so be it.”

Julian sobbed. It hurt so badly.

“We have signed no civil contracts, Julian. That’s how things are done on Cardassia. No officiant is needed, just a signed form. The vows are a private affair. Yet you… In all your oblivious glory, managed not only to take me to one of the most significant locations of my life, but you also opted to do so on the night of the Blind Moon, in front of the monument to the Union. You went to your knees, entwined your fingers with mine, and then proceeded to speak your vows perfectly. As if that wasn’t enough, we consummated our bond under the clear night sky, illuminated only by the Blind Moon… You buried your fingers in Cardassia’s soil, rooting yourself to her _and _to me. We were joined in every conceivable fashion – body, mind, soul – and tethered to the skies and the earth. And all this…”

His angry mask fell apart and the only thing remaining was raw pain and an anguished sob rending Julian’s heart.

“All this!” Elim choked and wept and shattered, “Without knowing the meaning of it!”

Julian was openly weeping, his words and his mouth dry.

“I have given you all of me! The softness of my skirts! I would have grown your roots, Julian! You have shown me the heights of joy I have never experienced before, only to plunge me into an abyss so deep I cannot see anything but darkness!”

With that, Elim collapsed onto the cot, buried fingers into his hair and started rocking; heaving sobs making his formidable frame shudder and quake. 

Carried by the screaming in his soul, Julian ran to Elim’s side and fell to his knees, not even registering the pain. He grasped Elim’s hands to stop the man from tearing his hair out.

“Elim, I’m begging you - stop!” He implored, “You’re hurting yourself!”

“There’s a reason why nobody follows the old rites anymore…” Elim murmured, like a man possessed, rocking and insensate. His gaze was a million miles away, seeing something Julian had no way of reaching.

“No law can separate what Cardassia itself has enjoined!”

The enormity of what Elim was trying to say crashed over Julian. 

“Are you telling me there is no divorce?” Julian said incredulously and Elim keened so mournfully it made him feel he would never be happy or warm again. The ice was creeping in his veins, freezing his fingers and turning them numb. They tingled, as if asleep – as if unused. 

As if dead.

“You made an oath you didn’t mean… A vow you broke without knowing you had made it… And you tethered us together in a way you do not even comprehend! Neither of us is allowed to break this bond – that means no lovers, Julian! No scantily clad women of the holographic variety either, not that you care! I thought you wanted me… I thought you knew what you were offering… With the gifts, and at Tarlak! But it turns out our Union is hollow – meaningless! All of it, nothing but a… a cruel coincidence!”

The rawness is Elim’s voice was gutting.

“But I meant it, Elim!” Julian cried out desperately, “Something was guiding me; I’ve felt it even before I set foot on Cardassia! Ever since I saw the Blind Moon sliding into the cradle of that monument, I knew I had to see it in reality! You don’t even believe in coincidences, so…” Julian grappled for the right words to say. His soul was wailing in the distance.

“It felt like fate! Astraea said as much… You were never meant to entwine roots with Palandine, because… Because… You were meant for me! And I for you… We fit so well, Elim… All of our disparate parts… This unfortunate situation doesn’t change that, surely you can see that?”

“Oh, now you say that… When it suits you… You spout words you do not understand and make vows you don’t intend to keep! Why should I believe a single word out of that poisoned, honeyed mouth?”

“What can I do to prove it to you? To prove I am serious and dedicated to you! I will do anything you ask of me!”

Elim’s eyes narrowed in a calculating manner.

“A dangerously open promise. I thought you beyond such folly, Doctor.”

“Pity the blind man, but pity the one in love more.” Julian said, echoing Zeyem’s words. 

Despite this horrible misunderstanding, Julian knew the keys to Elim’s heart.

“I will serve you, Elim.” Julian promised, feeling strangely calm. “You need only tell me how.”

Garak seemed to be mulling things over.

“I made a promise to you, and to Cardassia. That hasn’t changed. I intend to keep it.” Julian avowed.

“Anything?” Garak said coldly.

“Yes.” Julian swore.

“Even if I asked you to leave and never speak to me again?”

Julian laughed. How had he never noticed Garak’s insecurity before? The man was like a wounded child, in need of soothing.

“Anything but that.” Julian said mildly. “There’s no force in the known universe that could tear me away from you now, not even your paranoia or sheer stubbornness. I am caught in your orbit, Elim. We are a twin star-system. I will always be dancing in your orbit.”

“What if staying away is the only thing I want from you?” Garak sneered, but Julian knew better.

“It’s not.” Julian said calmly. “You forget how well I know you.”

There was a hint of outrage and defiance in Elim’s otherwise shuttered gaze.

“Do you, now?”

“Yes.” Julian said with warm confidence. “I know you better than anyone. Better than Ghemor… Better than Parmak, better than your parents, and better than even Palandine.”

“You seem awfully sure of yourself.” Garak said disdainfully, but Julian noticed the rage was spent and the pain muted. It would seem Elim was listening.

Not everything was lost yet.

“They knew who you used to be… Who they wanted you to be… But none of them had the complete picture.”

“And why is that, Doctor?” Elim challenged.

“Because you didn’t let them.” Julian said simply. “You always held something back… But not with me. I _see_ you Elim. And I love you just the way you are. I won’t dangle the prospect of forgiveness in front of you like Parmak does, because I think you’ve suffered enough. Self-flagellation isn’t healthy, and you’ve been at it for far longer than anyone should be. I think it’s high time we both left such awful coping mechanisms behind, don’t you? My love…” He reached for Elim and cupped his dear face. “Isn’t it time to let go of every terrible thing that’s preventing our growth? The weeds are choking you, _mirror of my soul_, can’t you see that?”

Elim watched him in silence, his form still at the moment. Julian took in the unfamiliar openness on that usually controlled face and wanted to weep at the sight of such visceral anguish. Instead, he caressed Elim’s cheeks with both hands, immeasurably gently. 

Elim had always needed tenderness.

Why hadn’t he noticed it before?

Why hadn’t he noticed just how much effort went into maintaining that image of imperviousness? 

It was because…

_ All his life, he’d been punished for being open… _

Julian vowed to himself never to punish Elim’s openness or vulnerability. 

“We’ve come so far…” Julian said with soft wonder. “We’ve been through so much… Elim… I _do_ know what I want. A blossoming, prosperous Cardassia. A kinder world where you can stay in the light. A world safe for our beautiful children… However many we end up having.”

He let Elim infer the meaning of _his_ words for a change. 

Elim’s eyes closed, face scrunching in pain. He had the look of a man battling with his demons. Julian knew Garak had more than most.

“Julian…” Elim croaked, “Do you remember… when I told you…” His blue eyes opened; immeasurable sadness pooled in them, “That you had never done anything I hadn’t been able to forgive you for?”

Julian swallowed.

“I remember.”

“Well… I’m afraid, my dear… That we may have found something-“ The word seemed to get stuck in Elim’s throat like a piece of shrapnel and nothing else came out.

A frisson of fear slithered down Julian’s spine.

He wouldn’t let this tear them apart. 

Not for anything.

But he knew he had to wait for Elim to say something instead of blindly charging forward and bulldozing over the man’s vulnerability. 

Ezri may have been right about him hurting Elim, but he was damned if he was going to allow this to destroy what they have. 

This wasn’t like Palis, when he’d run from his parents and the trauma of his youth. 

This wasn’t like Ezri, when he’d been so focused on joy that he’d used it to suppress the trauma left by war.

And it wasn’t like Garak - the man he left by the wayside because he couldn’t cope with a relationship so complicated and convoluted. 

Julian’s eyes opened; golden light surging within.

He had a bond with this man.

An unbreakable one.

He let it give him strength. 

“Elim… You were right… I _was_ afraid of learning what I could be with you by my side… I was becoming bitter and cynical, and no matter how much you extolled those as virtues, it didn’t _feel_ right. By your side, Elim… it was so easy to lose myself; in the webs of lies and intrigue… In the darker corners of my mind, as well as yours. I didn’t want to become like that. I couldn’t face it. So I ran away. I ran from you like I ran from Palis and my parents. I ran from you… Because I couldn’t face _myself_.”

Elim was shivering before him.

“But you already knew that, Elim.” Julian said softly. “You knew that all along.”

Elim’s letter…

Had been nothing but a long, intricately crafted declaration of love, meant to bridge their differences at long last.

“You never chided me for my immaturity, Elim…”

Elim’s voice was gravelly.

“You weren’t immature, Julian. Merely naïve. Many mistake the two.”

Even now, Elim could astound him. 

“Lack of experience does not make someone immature…It’s the refusal to learn from one’s mistakes that does.” The Cardassian said succinctly. “And you always learned, my dear…”

Julian sniffed and a tear tumbled down his cheek.

“I never realized before… Just how deeply you understood me, Elim…” 

How he loved this man.

Beyond the pain.

Beyond this plane.

Elim’s words filled him, reminded him-

_ “So, you’re saying… what? That this level is the concrete manifestation of…”  _

_ “Of who we are, Doctor. Our being. Human being. Cardassian being. But we have become these beings – are becoming, always in the process of becoming – on these other dimensional levels that are not limited by the measures of time and space. And the great determining factor of our becoming is relationship. Unrelated, I become unrelated. Alienated. Opposed, I become an antagonist. Unified, I become integrated. A functioning member of the whole.” _

_ _

Julian used to think Garak was talking about a collective, of belonging to one’s society and culture – of serving the State. But it wasn’t just that… It couldn’t be. The spiritual bend of the words, the context of the Oralian Way he was aware of now, and Elim’s feelings…

Elim’s long suppressed feelings…

And suddenly, Julian felt like _more_. 

Through his own process of becoming; he had realized there was more to him than he’d previously been aware of. He wasn’t just a sum of his knowledge or his experiences. He wasn’t even the sum of his augmentations, or virtues, or flaws – whether genetically induced or otherwise.

And if becoming was defined by relationship…

By far the most meaningful relationship of his life was Garak. 

It had always been Garak.

Unified, I become integrated… Loved, I become…. What? Lover? One? What is love but unification of two separate things into a single one?

Hejod had told him-

_ “Thank you for your help and may your union be blessed.” _

And Elim…

Under the Blind Moon…

_ “Our union is blessed… You’ve chosen a wonderful place, my Julian… Thank you.” _

That had been their wedding.

Elim’s soft looks and tenderness…

It had all been reserved for the Julian who proposed to him… For his Chosen. 

For his husband.

_ “Welcome home… **husband**.” _

Julian felt like he was bursting out of his skin, overflowing and outgrowing himself.

So many details scattered like crumbs…

So much love, hidden between the lines.

All his life, Elim sought the cracks, the spaces in-between.

All his life, he lived in the subtext; never open, never shown.

It was time to end all that. 

Julian grabbed his bag and dug out his medkit. He pried it open, fished out his scalpel and took it to his neck.

“What are you doing?” Elim said in alarm. 

“Reducing the distance between us.” Julian said calmly, aimed the scalpel behind his ear with perfect precision and let the beam slice through his skin into the implant; effectively frying it. 

Panicked, Elim smacked the scalpel out of his hand. It skittered across the floor and got lost in the darkness.

“_Julian! You’re bleeding!” _Elim’s deep, rumbling Kardassi washed over him like a benediction.

He cared. 

He had always cared.

“_It’s nothing, mirror of my soul…”_ Julian soothed and caressed the line of his jaw._ “Let us talk without interference and intercession. With no manufactured, pre-assembled meaning. You have always adapted to me – to others. It is time someone adapted to **you**_.” 

“_You lunatic! I thought you were trying to kill yourself!_” Elim hissed in what Julian could now see was alarm. 

He chuckled.

“_We can’t all be quite as melodramatic as you, dearest_…”

The panic and concern in those blue eyes burned so brightly. 

“_What has possessed you, Julian?_” __

Julian regarded him warmly. His anger. His protectiveness. 

“_I love the way you say my name, Elim… Like I am something indescribable you could not bear to lose…”_

_ _

“_You’ll chafe your throat raw, speaking this much.”_

“_Even your admonishments are so loving…” _Julian continued, unbothered by the scratchiness he could feel building in his throat. He watched Elim; now still, looking less raw – less flayed open.

He propped himself up and pressed a languid, loving kiss to Elim’s forehead – in the middle of that inverted drop shape others would derogatorily call a spoon. He let his warmth and his love feed into the contact. He would use everything at his disposal to let Elim know he was loved. 

The spoken.

The unspoken.

And the in-between.

All the jagged, splintered edges rattling inside Elim, he would soften and polish and let them heal.

“_You are loved…”_ Julian spoke against Elim’s warmed skin, “_You are so very loved.”_

Elim shuddered in his arms, shaken and overcome. 

They remained that way for a long moment, Julian cradling Garak’s head gently and monitoring his erratic breathing. 

Moonlight spilled into the room in silvery shafts, illuminating the cot. Elim’s disheveled hair seemed to absorb all the light; inky black and soft. Julian ran his fingers through the strands, smoothing them out, tucking them all in place. He handled Elim gently, for he was precious; caressing and holding him close – breathing him in, endlessly. The silence, his usual oppressor, didn’t feed his anxiety for once. He was insulated against it. Stuttering gasps buffeted the skin of his neck; tokens of distress offered by his Chosen.

Elim’s palm came to rest against his chest.

“_That’s good, Elim… Take what you need… Whatever you need…_”

The fingers burrowed into the fabric, creasing it; grasping. Julian let it happen. 

“_I need_…” Elim choked on the words, but Julian let him have the time to express himself.

The pressure against his chest increased.

“_I need you to go._”

Julian realized what the hand was trying to do.

He was being pushed away. 

Reluctantly, he allowed it. Still, he would be damned if Elim got rid of him so easily.

“_I’m not going anywhere, Elim_.” He said firmly. “_You can’t simply push me away_.”

“This isn’t about you, Doctor.” The reprimand was spoken without rancor. Elim just seemed exhausted. Since Elim had spoken in Standard, Julian switched to it. The fact his suffering companion was capable of being considerate even in such dire circumstances was an encouraging sign.

“No… It’s not just about me.” Julian refuted. “It’s about us. And I’m not letting our relationship implode like this.”

Elim shook his head and sighed wearily.

“Please, Doctor… Respect my wishes.”

“If you think I’m going to leave you here alone to brood and to suffer, you’ve got another thing coming!”

“And you think that watching you is not making me suffer?” Elim said pointedly.

Julian’s mouth snapped shut. He grit his teeth. He hadn’t thought about that. 

How painful would it be to find out that your husband got married to you under false pretenses? Even if the feelings were very real? Even if you both wanted the same things?

It would still hurt.

“Elim, I love you.” Julian said imploringly. “We have been through so much… I need to know we will get through this too. And I need you to know that you can depend on me, that I won’t simply run away at the first sign of trouble!”

“Oh, no,” Elim said with a muted fondness, “Doctor Bashir always valiantly runs into dangerous situations when there is an ailing patient to treat.”

“You’re not my patient, Elim.” Julian’s voice was calm and serious. “You’re my husband, _my enjoined_.” He finished in Kardassi.

Elim gave him a pained look.

“Are you?”

Julian let out a whiffling breath.

“Of course I am.” He let his face overflow with wonder at the thought. “The words felt right. Everything we shared felt right.”

“As if you haven’t felt elation in the arms of your previous lovers…” Elim scoffed, clearly pained.

“With them, I felt giddy. Happy. Simple and sated, at least for a while.” Julian continued, “With you… I feel exultant. Safe. Serene. _Fully alive and aware._”

Elim regarded him cautiously, as if he wanted to read his mind or his soul.

Therefore – Julian bared it.

“What we have cannot be compared to anything I’ve had before. And I know you feel the same. _I feel your love like a presence, it covers me and uplifts me, it nourishes and challenges, it soothes and mends… _And I will not leave you when you’re so frail emotionally_.”_

“Julian…” Elim exhaled, “I need time to… come to terms with this. I am not sending you away because I want to punish you. Or myself, for that matter.”

“Are you sure, love?”

“Give me time.”

Julian gave him an assessing look, and seeing no indication of vindictiveness, acquiesced.

“All right, if this is what you need, I will do as you wish. Still, I won’t go far_._” Julian promised. 

“_We shall see what remains after the storm._” Elim said wistfully and it took Julian a moment to catch his meaning.

It was a literary reference. 

Of course it was. 

Another line from the Never-Ending Sacrifice. 

Except in the book, it was a question – “What remains after the storm?”

Spoken between husband and wife, the night before deployment. The husband was being sent to a battle vital to the war, yet one he would most certainly die in. The way he had spoken the line indicated he was having a crisis of faith, yet his wife reassured him, in a typical Cardassian manner, that it was his duty irrespective of his personal wishes. 

Now he knew more about Cardassian culture, though. To not go would have forfeited his family’s standing, ruined their finances, and shamed their family name for generations to come. He had no choice. In retrospect, the attempt to dispel his doubts was the kindest thing his wife could have done. 

It was Garak’s way of saying he needed reassurance. 

Julian smiled warmly and recited back with all the poise he could muster:

“_Proud Cardassia._”

This is what he had been missing. 

To Cardassians, the prospect of their State surviving was a hopeful one - faith in something that endured. Where his human-centric views saw a fascist regime, Cardassians saw safety and shelter. Something greater than you surviving, even if you had to lay down your life for it. The many generations of the same family repeating the same sacrifices… The family survived _precisely_ because sacrifices had been made. It was a matter of survival, as well as a point of pride. 

“Take your things._” _Elim muttered, gaze affixed to the darkness. Julian stood still for a moment, wondering whether he should fight this. The urge to debase himself and beg was there, but he resisted it. It wasn’t necessary. He had to believe that their relationship was strong enough to survive this.

So, he tracked down his fallen scalpel, tucked it back into the medkit, closed the case and slung it over his shoulder. He grabbed his duffle bag and stood upright; looking at the man he loved slumped on the cot.

_ “I’ll be back. In case you don’t want to see me before I get my affairs in order, I will see you after I deal with everything on…  _ Deep Space Nine._” _Julian assured, “_And once I am, I never intend to leave your side again._”

Elim said nothing. 

Julian wished to say he loved Elim, but the man already knew. 

There was nothing to add, but Julian knew he would miss the man terribly the moment he turned his back.

“Will you let me…”

_ Kiss you? _

“Write to you?” Julian finished lamely, hoping Elim wouldn’t hold his yearning against him.

Elim looked up at him from the cot and for a long moment, Julian thought he wouldn’t get a reply, but then the man moved his chin in the tiniest of undulating moments.

It was a yes. 

“_Thank you, mirror of my soul… And if at any time you wish to see me… I’m only a call away.”_

With one last lingering look, he took in the sight of moonlit ridges, hoping his gaze betrayed his feelings as it usually did.

_ See you soon, my love… and forgive me. _

With that thought, he turned on his heel and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughhh, poor darlings. Yes, this has been set up since chapter 10. There is so much foreshadowing that I couldn't possibly enumerate it all in here. XD 
> 
> I need to know your thoughts! 
> 
> Also, there is absolutely a happy ending to this story, I didn't spend 200k words building them up only to tear them apart!


	96. After the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian tries to absorb everything that's happened and revisits some memories.
> 
> Telat helps him with context.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [What Remains After the Storm](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/618226876259958784/what-remains-after-the-storm-what-remains-after) is the vocal companion piece for this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

The night was eerily still. No breeze swept through the abandoned streets; the sandy sediment disturbed only by the shuffling of his somewhat unsteady feet. Julian walked in a daze, only vaguely aware of his surroundings, following the trajectory he’d mapped out in his head - leading to the Research Center. 

Thoughts of how badly he’d inadvertently hurt Elim swarmed in his mind.

_ “Elim… We need to talk.” _

How reckless. He’d started that conversation so poorly. 

_ “It was all a big misunderstanding!” _

Oh, it had been a misunderstanding. He believed Elim and Parmak had a thing, which, apparently they had… Only it had ended the moment Elim accepted his gifts… But Garak, the poor man, thought Julian was explaining that the engagement was off…

_ No, that’s not right… _

_ “I should have known.”  _ Garak had said with so much bitterness, so much heartache that Julian felt a sharp pain in his chest at remembering that exchange. 

Elim thought, in that moment, that Julian was…

_ He thought I was telling him the engagement was a misunderstanding… _

Suppressing a whimper, he picked up the pace.

Elim had been cautious, wondering about Julian’s motives, questioning his newfound reality. Until Julian reassured him.

The realization landed on his shoulders like a massive bird of prey. 

_ I had destroyed his caution with renewed intimacy… He thought I was there to tell him the engagement wasn’t real, only to end up allaying his fears… _

To find out, after everything, that the engagement… The marriage… Wasn’t real…

That would be absolutely devastating for most people, but for a man like Elim, who always expected the worst, who never had anything emotionally stable and supportive…

The urge to run back to the shed, grasp Elim’s palms and never let him go was strong. Yet, if he did that, what kind of message would that send? 

That he was impulsive.

Desperate.

Unable to keep his word.

And that was unacceptable. He had to prove to Elim that he wasn’t flaky or irresponsible; that he could commit to their relationship and see things through _properly_, without further mishaps, misunderstandings or wounds. That meant he had a lot of work ahead of him.

Julian had somehow successfully navigated the dusty, deserted streets and ruined buildings, finding himself in front of the Research Centre. Predictably, the building was locked. He rang the door chime and waited, hoping somebody was awake to keep an eye on any potential emergencies in the middle of the night. From what Ghar told him, they weren’t that common since they were far from the most densely populated areas of the city. The Barvonok Hospital got more traffic during the night. 

The doors slid open and revealed an alert Telat who seemed ready for a patient, yet his face only marginally relaxed to see Julian instead. 

“_Zhulian__, my friend… What’s happened_?”

“_It’s going to be a long story…” _He replied, coughing to clear his throat.

“_You’re speaking_-“ Telat remarked, clearly surprised. “_You are speaking_.” The nurse concluded and Julian merely moved his chin up and down. 

It seemed only then that the experienced nurse’s eyes assessed Julian’s state. 

“_You are injured. Come inside._”

Julian sighed and acquiesced. 

“_It’s self-inflicted. I fried my translator implant_.”

“_Why would you do that?_” Telat wondered in wide-eyed concern. 

“_To make myself understood_.” Julian shrugged, following Telat to the infirmary without complaint.

“_Shall I wake someone else? Ghar has gone home to Elkan, but I could wake Moje if you_-“

“_No, there’s no need.” _Julian waved his hand dismissively_. “Let them sleep_.”

They walked through the quiet, empty corridors and Julian followed his friend into the dimly lit infirmary. Julian made himself comfortable on the cot and allowed Telat to scan the injury.

“_I don’t think the implant is salvageable_…” The nurse muttered.

“_It’s not_.” Julian stated with absolute certainty.

“_We should remove it_.” Telat said.

Julian sighed.

“_Go ahead_.”

Telat looked at him hesitantly.

“_Are you sure? I don’t know much about your physiology; if something goes wrong, I won’t be able to help you_-“

“_I trust you, my friend_.” Julian said warmly. “_I know you have a steady hand_.”

Telat gave him a suffering look. 

Regardless of his reservations, the Cardassian went to fetch a hypo when Julian stopped him.

“_I don’t need anything for this level of pain. Save the medication for someone who needs it instead of wasting it-“ Here_ he coughed again, “_On me_.”

Deferring to his opinion, albeit grudgingly, Telat abandoned the hypo and took a surgical instrument.

“_I don’t know how much this will hurt you, but a Cardassian would be in considerable pain_.” Telat warned.

“_Good thing_ _I’m not Cardassian, then_.” Julian smiled.

He let Telat remove his implant, slowly and carefully. Just as he had suspected, the man’s hand was extremely steady. After it was removed, Telat ran the dermal regenerator over his neck and Julian felt the subtle stretch of skin as it mended. All throughout, he’d barely registered any pain.

“_Thank you, my friend_.” Julian said earnestly.

“_Why don’t we settle in the break room? It’s more comfortable_.”

Not to overuse his voice, Julian gestured acceptance. He could tell Telat was curious, but not overbearing about it. He wondered whether he’d have a voice left by the time he was done explaining what had happened. To be fair, he wasn’t even completely cognizant of everything that had transpired. He would need to run a fine-toothed comb over all his memories of the past six weeks to grasp the enormity of what had happened. Telling someone else usually helped refine the concepts in his mind. 

His legs were on autopilot and he was startled to find himself sitting in a chair and his luggage taken from him and gently placed on the floor under the table. Telat deposited a glass of water before him and sat down, looking at him attentively, softly.

“_Why don’t you tell me what ill has befallen you, Zhulian_? _Am I wrong in assuming this has something to do with your Chosen_?”

Julian’s mind whirred.

Yes… There was a difference between chosen sister and chosen family… To be chosen and to be Chosen were two very distinct and separate things. 

Chosen meant…

Fiancé.

“What a mess…” He muttered in his own language, burying his face in his palms. But they weren’t engaged…

“_Enjoined_.” Julian murmured, tasting the word for the first time. “_He’s my enjoined_…”

He’d really done it this time.

“_Then why do you bear the look of a man who has enjoined out of duty_?”

Julian snapped to attention.

_ “That’s not it at all!”  _ He cried out indignantly, “_Why would you say that_?”

“_Tell me what happened, my friend. I can tell it was serious_.” Telat coaxed gently with genuine concern.

“_Would you believe me if I told you that I managed to propose to Elim and enjoin with him without knowing I had done either_?”

Telat’s eyes went wide and his mouth opened a crack in surprise.

“_You jest_…” The Cardassian muttered in disbelief.

Julian expelled a gusty breath.

“_I wish, Telat… I wish_.”

He could tell his friend was at a loss for words.

“_Somehow, through a string of coincidences, misunderstandings and a generous helping of obliviousness, I have managed to navigate a Cardassian courtship to its natural conclusion… Even if I broke other bonds in the process… I didn’t know what twinned gifts were… Or the Union gift… I didn’t know anything!_” Julian cried in anguish, his voice and throat raw.

Telat gripped his hands and held them gently.

“_Why don’t you start from the beginning?_” Telat suggested.

With a long, fortifying inhale, Julian launched into a lengthy recounting of the events. He rambled a lot, mentioning their first meeting, the excitement and the trepidation; various life-threatening episodes, including the simulation where he’d thought he’d lost Garak. He recalled their vivacious lunch debates and arguments over literature, the exchange of books , and the occasional box of chocolates. He discussed his guilt over shooting Garak to save the rest of the senior staff, his hurt over watching Garak slip ever deeper into depression, and the pervasive feeling of helplessness. 

“_I distanced myself because I didn’t know how to help him. I stepped aside because I couldn’t breathe… I thought I couldn’t deal with his pain on top of my own_.”

The last sentence sent him into a violent coughing fit, so he gulped down half of his glass and tried to breathe.

“_We all have limits, Zhulian. There’s no shame in that_.”

Julian felt tears of frustration welling in his eyes.

“_I abandoned him! He needed me and I… I just_…” With an anguished sob, he dissolved into tears. 

“_I don’t think the past matters in this instance, my friend. It’s what you want for your future that counts_.”

Julian nodded, choked up and unable to stop the flood of tears.

“_Do you not wish to be enjoined_?” Telat asked cautiously.

Julian sobbed, wiping his eyes brusquely with a sleeve.

“_Of course I do! I had planned on proposing – the human way, as soon as I got back from Dee-Terok Nor!_” Another hacking cough made it hard to breathe.

“_Easy… Rest your voice_.” Telat soothed, “_Just listen_.”

Julian knew he had no choice. His throat felt raspy and his vocal chords were chafed raw. 

“_From what you’ve told me, and from what I’ve seen; I can tell you have shared much with your Chosen. He clearly loves you dearly, and you him. I am not sure why he chased you away; aside from the hurt he must be feeling right now. I will be honest, Zhulian, I have never heard of an accidental engagement or enjoining before. Possibly because I have not known any other mixed couples. You must have inferred by now that enjoining is something we take quite seriously. Merging of families is never taken lightly, even among the service class._”

Julian indicated he understood. 

“_Now, not only were you unfaithful to your previous partner, you also tarnished your vow to your Chosen. Your mistake is only compounded by the fact it is a love match. The expectations of fidelity and duty are higher in such unions. Admittedly, I do not know how enjoining works in your culture, perhaps your rules and expectations are more lax, but here – love matches aren’t as common as one would hope. We are trained, from infancy, to think of the common good. If the State would be better served by a dutiful union, most Cardassians would choose so. Lovers and comfort women are not a rarity, though it is expected such dalliances be extremely discreet, and above all else – unfruitful_.”

Unfruitful… No bastards. Right. Julian shuddered at the vileness of it.

“_To be unfaithful to your Chosen, or worse - enjoined, sends a message to him. I know you didn’t mean it, but to a Cardassian, it is a show of extreme disrespect. Especially if he is as devoted to you as I suspect he is_.”

Julian’s face crumpled in pain.

“_I’m not saying this to hurt you, Zhulian. I want to help you resolve this, because I can tell you love that man. But you lack context, and I would be a terrible friend if I didn’t explain matters to you_.”

“_Cardassian courtship is a well-choreographed ritual.” _Telat expounded_, “It has changed over time somewhat, as most things do, but it retains its significance. Enjoining is an alliance, a Union on the most intimate level. It is an investment into the future. To enjoin is to merge two individuals, thus strengthening the families, the society and the State. Duty. Sacrifice. To do either of those is to love_.”

“_Love is devotion_…” Julian murmured. 

“_Love is keeping your word and safeguarding your bonds. Bonds of family. Marital bonds. Bonds to your profession – your patients. To serve is to strengthen. Yet, serving oneself is_…”

“_Not Cardassian_.” Julian finished.

“_No_.” Telat agreed. “_It is not_.”

“_So… Garak felt I… strengthen him? That our bond is in the best interests of Cardassia_?”

“_He must_.” Telat said easily. “_One does not enjoin otherwise_.”

Julian found it really hard to reconcile the idea of marrying for love with the Cardassian ideal of marrying for, well – Cardassia.

So… In that moment, when he’d handed over the bolts of fabric; Garak had calculated how beneficial for Cardassia their marriage would be and said yes. 

But when they had discussed it, Garak didn’t mention anything about doing it for Cardassia’s benefit, only how weak and sentimental he was to accept… Which meant the benefit to the state wasn’t the determining factor. 

Love was.

_ “Do you even know what twinned gifts are?”  _ Garak had asked and Julian’s mind rewound their conversation.

_ _

_ “…The seriousness of someone’s proposal can be measured, among other things, by how expensive or rare the gifts are… The first twinned gift, the gift of food, or drink, sometimes… The other measure of worth is how specific it is to the person courted…” _

_ _

_ “Telat…”  _ Julian asked_, “If one would offer two packs of Delavian chocolates as a first twinned gift… Would that be considered a valuable gift?”_

Telat’s face turned pensive.

“_Before the Fire?_ _ No _ .” Telat said decisively. “_Not even if they are something he enjoys, which I assume he does… Zhulian, the first twinned gift is both a measure of how well you know the other person, as well as proof that you can take care of them and provide for them. It may be called a twinned gift, but those two tokens of affection were usually supplemented by other things. Provisions, usually.”_

Julian’s eyes widened.

He had brought…

Rations… Water… Filters… Generators… A bloody water purifier.

“_Though now… With the most basic foods being a luxury… A pack of chocolates would be an incredible extravagance. A man in love would have been happier with less_.” Telat finished.

Julian covered his mouth with his palm.

He had proposed to Garak in either the most pathetic manner or the most extravagant one, depending on how you sliced it. Either the provisions were all for Cardassia (which is the way Garak would have distributed it, as Julian doubted he kept much for himself) or they were an almost revoltingly over the top gift he could have possibly given. In either case, Garak would have seen it as a romantic gesture. 

Then the fabrics… 

_ “In the old days, dear Doctor, there were no ready-made garments to purchase for one’s enjoining… The supplicant would bring his Chosen cloth of suitable quality and color, to fashion into enjoining garments for them both. This was, naturally, the future wife’s work. The husband picked the colors, but the wife picked the trim. It was up to her to finish the garb with her skill and insight – to put finishing touches on the suits…” _

_ _

_ “Emerald – so decadent, lush… No Cardassian would choose the color – it’s too Hebitian by far, too vibrant… Brazen and bold…And burgundy… So proud to think you knew me well enough to choose it – power and stability, a service color…” _

He wondered…

“_What kind of a message would an emerald fabric send_?” Julian asked, already knowing what burgundy stood for.

Telat’s eyes widened.

“_For him or for you_?”

“_Me… Dark red was for him_…” Julian squeezed out. His throat hurt so badly now, but he couldn’t give up without understanding everything.

“_Well_,” Telat pondered, “_It’s not commonly used… Not to my memory_.” His tone turned apologetic. “_All I do know is that it is a very luxurious color. Only someone extremely rich or powerful would dare wear it. The wife of a prominent Legate, perhaps. Not for enjoinment garb, though_.”

Julian wondered whether the lush color was far too Hebitian in taste to be used. After all, the planet was no longer green. 

For the first time, Julian wondered whether it ever was. 

What if Cardassian vegetation was mostly red or purple in color?

Even now his perceptions were colored, quite literally, by his personal experiences. Garak used to chide him for it, but only now did Julian understand what Elim had meant by it. The tailor didn’t mind the inherent bias that all cultures had, which was invariably skewed in favor of their own – but the notion that one was free of said bias if one belonged to a nation as cosmopolitan as the Federation. 

No one was free of that bias. 

Julian had learned that. He had learned so many things from Elim…

A whimper filled the air.

“Elim… What have I done to you…”

Knowing he had caused the man he loved so much anguish and pain was intolerable. 

And then there was the matter of the Union gift… 

_ “Ah, but that is a Union gift, my dear. It comes after the first and second twinned gifts… Usually a, what would you call them… Objet d’art? Yes, an artifact of some kind, an artwork, usually the older the better… It is the first item placed in the home of the newly enjoined. It is supposed to symbolize the enduring of bonds… It should hold monetary value, in case the couple falls on hard times. An investment for the future, if you will.” _

“_Telat__… The Union gift is supposed to be old… Valuable… What if it isn’t_?”

The man seemed to deliberate for a moment.

“_Again, it depends on the couple’s affinities. All the gifts are expected to be at least somewhat personal. Service class cannot possibly hope to acquire truly valuable artworks. Sometimes, the Union gift is a family heirloom – an old mirror, hair ornaments, an antique weapon. What have you given, Zhulian?”_

“_I haven’t given anything… What Elim thought was a Union gift was actually something Nerys sent him… A charcoal drawing of Elim sewing in his tailor’s shop, made by Ziyal… A young friend of his.”_

Julian felt saddened. What would Ziyal have thought? The drawing she had made with so much love ended up being used to break Garak’s heart…

It felt like a lifetime ago. 

“_She was a nice girl… Elim was devastated. I don’t think he’s ever had true friends_.”

“_What happened to her_?” Telat asked; voice compassionate and soothing.

“Damar…” Julian trailed off, unsure whether he should reveal the truth. Damar had turned into a hero to the Cardassian people… Would dredging his past crimes be prudent going forward? But then again, they as a people would have to face their own past at some point… Maybe the harsh truth was the best in this case.

“_Damar__ killed her. At that point, he was still Dukat’s lackey and, for some reason, he felt Ziyal was Dukat’s weakness - being his daughter, and would compromise him… I’ve never met anyone that sweet, Telat. Imagine Akot, only five years younger and even sweeter. Ziyal was kind, playful and an artist. I think she even won some kind of prize for her work on Prime_…”

“_A young artist who died in her prime would still fill the criteria_.” Telat observed and Julian noticed the man sidestepping the issue entirely. 

“_She was in love with Elim, too_…” Julian murmured.

“_Both your pasts are heavy, Zhulian_.” The nurse spoke softly. “_Our pasts may shape us, define us… But it’s the future we need to build. And I know you want a future with him.”_

“_More than anything…” _Julian admitted.

“_Then fight for him_.” Telat said simply.

“_I intend to, my friend… I intend to_…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this more intermediary kind of chapter, but Julian has a whole lot to unpack.
> 
> As always, I live for your thoughts!


	97. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian worries.
> 
> Zeyem mothers him a bit, in her own way, revealing more about enjoining and partnerships.

Julian was grateful for the use of one of the small rooms. Three hours of sleep was better than no sleep. 

Still, as he lay on a narrow bed, his mind drifted to Garak.

He missed the solid weight pressed up against him, the warmth, and the soothing smell that had become part of his routine. The night that used to be filled with calm and safety, the feel of Elim’s arms holding him – hell, even waking with imprints of scales on his cheeks which he found both annoying and kind of cute; he missed all of it keenly. 

Was Elim cold without him?

Julian bit his lower lip and tried to contain his tears. 

The thought of the man he loved, alone once more in that tiny shed… It shred his heart into frayed ribbons. Julian had support from Telat, but who did Elim have? Would the man even tell anyone he was suffering? Past track record showed he more than likely wouldn’t. He could picture it perfectly; the listless staring into the distance Garak sometimes fell into when he forgot himself for a moment. He hadn’t seen it happen in a long time, true, but Elim had seemed so happy since they…

It occurred to Julian that he left his husband to cope with what he perceived as a sham of a marriage. He left Elim all alone to simmer in his misery.

How stupid!

He knew Elim had a habit of bottling things inside until they exploded out of him. In fact, in this aspect, they were exactly the same. Just because Elim did so out of mastered self-control… 

No. 

They both had a self-control mastered out of necessity. Garak’s was acquired through pain. Julian’s was acquired through fear. 

Fear of failure.

Fear of discovery.

Fear of rejection.

Julian tossed and turned in bed, unable to empty his restless mind. 

_ We are exactly the same in all the ways that matter.  _

The thought wouldn’t leave his mind, writhing and demanding attention like a living, injured thing. And he’d never been able to ignore an injury – in others, that is. In himself, he’d done his level best to either rationalize, compartmentalize or stash it away into a compartment so deep and dark even he couldn’t reach back in to retrieve whatever it was he had consigned to the void. Garak had always been more honest, at least to himself.

_ I shouldn’t have left.  _

He was tired of worrying, tired of agonizing over his actions, and terrified of the possibility that Elim could have taken him leaving for a sign of rejection. 

Elim’s existence now felt like an inextricable part of him. 

_ Our roots are tangled now. _

He told Telat he would fight, and he told Elim he would be only a call away… But knowing Elim, the man would rather stew in his misery than admit what he truly wanted (or needed, for that matter). Julian knew it was up to him to prove to Garak that he was serious about them… But it took two to make a go of things. 

Even separated, Julian felt the solid connection to the Cardassian. He only hoped Elim could feel it too, even through all the pain.

_ Tommorow. _

Tomorrow he would try to see Elim.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be turned away.

_ No. _

_ _

He wouldn’t _allow_ Elim to drive him away.

***

When he’d woken from uneasy slumber, his first thought was emptiness. 

His bed was empty. 

His arms were empty. 

The room around him was sterile and cold.

It looked wrong.

It _smelled _wrong. 

He’d never noticed the shed had a particular scent, but now when he was away from it, he could almost taste it. 

The lingering aroma of yesterday’s tea.

The crisp smell of pervasive ochre dust covering the floor.

The subtle undertone of soldered metal wafting from Garak’s workbench. 

And moist, rich soil intermixed with sweetness…

With a sigh, he got up.

When he’d stepped out into the corridor dressed and ready for work, he was greeted by the sight of Zeyem. With a firm gaze, she assessed him and said flintily – 

“_My office, Bashir_.”

He would have preferred to grab a gelat, the more bitter - the better, but he knew he would have to make do without. Direct orders from Zeyem were to be obeyed unquestioningly. So he followed, hoping whatever it was she wanted to discuss with him was medicine related. 

As soon as the doors to her office wheezed closed behind them, he knew it had been a futile hope. 

He sat down and braced for impact.

Zeyem was looking at him from across the desk in terse silence. Julian waited for her to speak.

“_So_…” She spoke sternly, “_What has he done_?”

Taken aback, Julian sputtered.

“_Uh, what? Who_?”

It was a pathetic bid to buy more time and he knew that she was aware of that as well. 

“_Don’t play the fool with me, Jhulian!_” Zeyem said testily. “_What’s Garak done_?”

Julian was genuinely flabbergasted by her inquiry. Why would she automatically assume that Garak had done something? 

“_Bloodshot eyes… General air of despair and dejection_…”

Just because he was miserable, that didn’t mean-

“_I know you wish to shield your Chosen from scrutiny, but if he’s_-“

He really couldn’t help it. Julian burst out laughing. 

Zeyem was being protective! 

It was both touching and endearing. Still, it was best to cut her off as soon as possible so she didn’t get the wrong idea.

With a sigh, he stated,

“_He did nothing wrong… I’m afraid the fault… lies with me_.”

This had obviously thrown her for a loop, so he continued.

“_I did something… significant… Without knowing it_.”

Her eyes narrowed as she attempted to puzzle out what he was talking about. Beyond tired of his situation, he tried to summarize as best he could.

“_I proposed and enjoined with him without knowing it, and Garak only discovered the error yesterday_.”

Her hand, which had thus far been propping her chin, dropped to the desk with a loud thud. She sucked in air loudly, and her eyes grew impossibly large. The sight was almost comical – the indomitable Mount Zeyem – at a complete loss for words. 

When she finally managed to gather her wits, her voice was a low, and dare he say it, quite an intimidating hiss.

“_You did what_?”

“_You heard me the first time_.” He sighed wearily.

It took her three languid blinks to compose herself sufficiently for her face to go back to its usual look of utter professionalism. He couldn’t remember seeing her quite so discomposed before, or at least not in this particular manner. Well, that only served to highlight the magnitude of his colossal cock-up. 

He was about to open his mouth when she pinned him with a laser stare and performed a brusque hand gesture to forestall any words he may have been tempted to say. 

“_I would ask you how you have managed it, but I don’t think I would like the answer. Besides, we have little time before the briefing starts, which isn’t conducive to long-winded explanations_.”

Julian slouched in his chair. This day was going to last forever, he could already tell. 

“_Have you signed a contract? Because you cannot enter a partnership without one_.”

“_No… We haven’t_.” Julian admitted.

“_I don’t know what that liar told you, but no enjoining is valid without the contract. Never mind the fact two men cannot legally enjoin. The most you could do is form a civil partnership_.”

“_I know that, Moje_.” He said softly.

“_Then you cannot be enjoined, little Bashir_.” She said matter of factly.

“_We said the vows… Only I didn’t know what they were for_.”

“_The vows are a private affair; they have no bearing on legality_.” Zeyem waved her hand dismissively.

The thought crossed his mind that Garak may have lied to him, as it certainly wasn’t uncharacteristic for the Cardassian. However, as soon as that crossed his mind, Julian knew Elim’s distress was genuine. There was no reason to be dramatic, no reason to exaggerate. The tailor may have tried to remain composed, but that flew out the window the moment he’d realized that Julian had absolutely no idea about having given him twinned gifts. What remained was visceral disappointment and soul-crushing heartbreak. 

Elim’s masks were all shattered. 

“_We said the vows under the Blind Moon… In front of the monument to the Union; which I also didn’t know, by the way… We… joined under the stars… I felt the silt between my fingers._”

Zeyem heaved a massive sigh.

“_Sentimental nonsense, Bashir. Spiritual Unions have fallen out of favor for a reason. They serve no practical purpose._”

Julian could feel his temper flaring.

“_It may not mean anything to you, but it means something to Elim, and _that_ matters to _me!”

“_Save your zeal for your Chosen, little Bashir. We have work to do_.”

He huffed, wondering why she would drag him to her office to express concern, only to dismiss everything he had to say. 

“_I expect you to sort this foolishness out. Watching your ridiculous pouty face for any extended period of time will surely start wearing on my nerves_.”

“_I had every intention of sorting it out_.”

“_Good_.” Zeyem said simply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter before Julian goes to Elim and fixes things!


	98. Second Chances and Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A determined Julian goes to Garak's shed, hoping to repair the rift between them.

The day wasn't long, as Julian had suspected it would be. 

It was positively interminable.

Julian drifted from general immunizations to surgery, then infirmary; all of it in a cycle that repeated several times. He’d been kept so busy that he was beyond exhausted when the daylight finally began to dim. Through it all, his mind was consumed with Garak.

Had he slept well?

Had he taken breakfast?

Was he worrying needlessly over what happened?

Did he tell anyone about the horrible misunderstanding?

Julian had a sneaking suspicion that Garak, if left to his own devices, would choose to self-destruct, as was his custom. He didn’t want that. It was utterly unacceptable. Not only because he was a doctor or Garak’s friend, but also because he was his husband. Julian had taken this duty upon himself. Instinctively, he knew the vows had been important, even binding. He’d felt their significance deeply, even at the time. Despite not knowing exactly what they meant, he had gladly joined with Elim – thinking of it as a promise. The fact it turned out more significant than he’d guessed, only reaffirmed his belief in the strength of their bond. 

He was glad of it – being enjoined with Elim.

Still, Zeyem’s words echoed in his mind. They hadn’t signed any forms. Supposedly they didn’t even need an officiant, since this was more of a family registry kind of thing. Julian wondered whether Garak had submitted the form without his knowledge. Knowing him, that was a distinct possibility. Regardless, Julian hoped it wasn’t the case; otherwise his gesture would be wasted. During his lunch break, he had scoured their database and with Zeyem’s blessing, plucked out the life partnership form. Who knew hospital databases had all of the documentation necessary? 

He fervently hoped that bringing the form - already filled out and signed on his part, would show Elim how serious he was about marrying him. 

And about _staying_ married!

A sappy smile overtook his face.

“_Glad to see your mood has improved, Zhulian_.” Telat said warmly as he joined him in the break room with a cup of tea in hand. 

Julian smiled, a yawn overtaking him soon after.

“_Taking a break before knocking down Garak’s door_?” The nurse grinned, sitting down next to Julian’s slouching form.

“_Yes… Waiting on the skimmer_…” He said, hiding his mouth behind his palm for another massive yawn.

“_Have you got your life partnership form_?” The nurse checked - which Julian found terribly sweet. He pat the bag on the chair next to him to indicate it was tucked safely inside.

“_Have you decided what to say_?” Telat inquired, taking a prim sip of his tea. 

The gesture reminded him of Elim.

“_Not yet. I have to see how he’s doing first_.” Julian commented, rubbing his eyes.

“_Form a diagnosis first_?” Telat chuckled. “_Seems prudent_.”

Julian snickered. Truer words were never spoken. 

To say Garak could be tetchy was a massive understatement. 

The ping from the console made him jump to his feet. This meant the skimmer was en route. 

He downed the rest of his gelat with a grimace, grabbed his bag and said good bye to Telat.

“_Don’t let him convince you he would rather be alone_.” The man said soberly.

Julian smiled.

“_Not a chance_.”

***

By the time he was deposited near the Necropolis, the last dredges of mauve twilight were melding into the encroaching darkness. When he cast a look at the shed, he saw no tell-tale shaft of light shining underneath the door. This could mean several things. Either Elim wasn’t home yet and was stuck doing something important for the rebuilding efforts, or he was deep in the throes of crippling depression. Julian fervently hoped it wasn’t the latter. A miserable Garak pushed to the boundaries of his capacity to endure hardship tended to take extreme measures. The airlock incident came to mind. 

Julian approached the door and stilled in front of it. If he could spare his beloved further anguish, he would. And if that meant saving Garak from himself, that was precisely what he was going to do.

He stood there and listened for any signs of life from within the shed. 

Julian tuned out the gentle rustling of sand on the humid evening wind and the distant clatter of the neighborhood. Slowly, carefully, he registered and filtered away every distraction from his environment. 

The sweat beading on his brow which was ever so slowly trickling downwards.

The distant, yet echoing sound of footsteps moving away.

The itch and burn on his still skinned knees.

Once everything else fell away, he listened carefully.

Silence.

He wiped his forehead.

Nothing was moving on the inside, not that he could tell. But he hadn’t been listening long.

His knees twitched in an attempt to remove the feel of the fabric from irritated skin.

More silence.

Well, that hardly mattered. If Elim wasn’t home, he would wait for him all night if that’s what it took. One way or another, he would get a hold of the man and make sure he was all right. 

Make sure _they_ were all right.

Just when he was thinking he should find something to sit on to wait for Garak; he heard a scuff on the floor from within.

“Elim?” He called out, palm resting against the door. “Are you home?”

It may have been a superfluous question, but he didn’t care. He needed Elim to know he was on the other side of the door.

The sound from within was swallowed up by abrupt silence.

“_May I come in_?” He asked in Kardassi, hoping his respectfulness might sway Elim enough to open the door. Julian could and would barge in if necessary, but he was trying to avoid that possibility, at least for now.

No answer was forthcoming. 

“_Elim__,__ please let me in_.” Julian entreated, appealing to Garak’s better sense. 

Once more, silence reigned, making Julian wonder whether Elim was standing frozen on the other side, not daring to breathe. The irony of this role-reversal was not lost on him. Not too long ago, it had been him on the other side of the door – frozen, hesitant, and full of doubts. Garak hadn’t left him to stew in his confusion and Julian was more than willing to return the favor. 

“_Open the door, Elim_.” Julian said, sternness creeping into his tone. “_I’m not going away until you do._”

A shuffle of feet could be heard, but the door didn’t open.

Perhaps it was a sign that Elim was listening. 

Julian decided to press his advantage.

“_I need to know you are all right, so please_ –“

The door swung open rather violently revealing a face he hadn’t expected.

The simmering rage in those usually measured and patient eyes was spilling into harsh words.

“_Haven’t you done enough_?” Parmak hissed, visibly trying to restrain his anger.

Julian pushed down any unwarranted jealousy, reminding himself that he had nothing to fear on that front. Elim had chosen.

He had faith in that. 

“_I appreciate the support you are offering Elim_-“

“_I warned him you had no idea what you were doing_!”

Irked at being cut off, Julian said frostily,

“_And yet he chose to ignore it. What does that tell you_?”

Parmak’s expression turned stricken and Julian plowed on.

“_Thank you for being a good friend to Elim, but I will ask you to step aside so I could have a word with him_.”

“_You have no right_.” The usually kind Cardassian growled.

Julian’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“_You don’t get to decide whether I can talk to my enjoined! If he wishes to spurn me, or curse me – it’s his prerogative to do so, not yours!_”

Parmak didn’t seem to be losing steam when a soft voice pierced the tension.

“_Kelas__… please_.”

“_Say the word, Elim_.” Parmak pleaded with his eyes and Julian realized he could recognize that look. Vestiges of hope danced in the corners of Kelas’ eyes, ephemeral and frail. 

Julian wanted to retort something but promptly shut his mouth instead. 

This had to be Garak’s choice. 

No matter what.

“_He is stubborn enough to make good on his promise to camp outside until I relent… Might as well speak to him now.”_

Watching the last of Kelas’ hope dissipating before his eyes was both excruciating and strangely vindicating. He chastised himself for the unkind thought.

“_Do you want me to stay_?” Parmak asked, visibly steeling himself for the answer he seemed to be dreading.

The same answer Julian was fervently hoping for. 

“_No, dear Kelas… Go home and rest_.”

The man’s throat moved and his shoulders tensed further.

“_As you wish_.”

With one last angry look, Parmak strode off into the night. Julian didn’t envy the man, but he had his own issues to deal with. Julian crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him.

This would be a conversation best held in private.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness and find Elim. 

The man was standing next to the workbench, cradling a cup with trembling fingers.

It wasn’t good.

Elim was avoiding his gaze and staring at the floor.

“Elim…” Julian said softly, wondering what could possibly be the right thing to say.

I missed you?

I needed to see you?

I came to check up on you to make sure you’re not busy destroying yourself?

Instead of saying anything, he approached slowly and gently pried out the mug out of Elim’s twitching fingers. Once the cold mug was resting on the table, he took those reluctant hands in his and placed a soft kiss on the knuckles. Elim stiffened, but didn’t turn him away.

“_I couldn’t sleep without you_…” Julian murmured.

Another soft kiss for a new set of knuckles.

“_Did you miss me too_?” Julian asked earnestly, looking up into a wounded pair of blue eyes.

The silence stretched out between them, sullen and uncomfortable.

Garak’s face was a mass of swirling shadows. 

Julian wondered whether he would ever get an answer when Elim murmured the softest-

“_The nights are cold_…” 

The admission made Julian’s heart soar. 

I was cold.

I missed you too. 

I wished you were here.

“_You never have to be cold again, Elim_…” Julian promised, squeezing the beloved gray hands.

Garak sighed.

“_A few sweet words cannot make this right, Julian_.” 

“I’m aware of that,” Julian conceded, “But I am not about to abandon you to your doubts.”

He needed a moment to marshal his courage. For once, he knew exactly what he wanted to say. If his own words weren’t helping, perhaps Elim needed reminding…

Maybe he needed a reminder of who he was.

Who he _is_.

“In your letter… You spoke of fear and isolation… About the evil that spawns when allowed to fester … I won’t allow your mind to become a breeding ground for your fears.”

Elim extricated his hands, saying nothing.

“You told me, at the end of that letter, that I would never judge you as harshly as you judge yourself… And that I would never deny you a second chance. Do you remember?”

Elim moved his chin to indicate he did.

“Well, you were right. I would always give you a second chance. But this time… It’s you who needs to give that second chance.”

“To you?” Elim snorted.

“No,” Julian spoke softly, “To yourself.”

When Elim said nothing, Julian continued.

“To us.” He muttered. “You’ve spent so much of your life completely alone… Aren’t you tired of it?”

Elim was looking at him with what Julian could only describe as hesitance and a muted, fragile hopefulness.

“I came to Cardassia hoping for a second chance. But I found much more than that.” Julian confessed, taking Elim’s face in his hands gently.

“You told me I had saved your life – given you back something you thought lost…” His throat constricted with the overwhelming emotion. “You’ve been shaping me in invisible strokes from the moment we met… It just took me a while to recognize it.”

“You never needed me… I only ever dimmed your light.” Elim said quietly.

Julian shook his head.

“No,” He smiled warmly, “You simply couldn’t find your own, so you borrowed mine for a time, that’s all.”

Elim’s face was so bared in its anguish.

“You remade me, Doctor…”

“I didn’t, Elim. I just offered a glimpse of a gentler path.”

Garak inhaled shakily.

Julian inched closer and rested his forehead against Elim’s.

“I want you to keep putting finishing touches on me…” Julian murmured reverently.

His beloved’s voice was hushed and strained.

“I thought you chose me, Julian. I thought…”

“I do choose you! Every day I will choose you anew! In my bag, I have the form for life partnership all filled out and signed - all that’s missing is your signature!” Julian exclaimed sincerely, looking deep into the shadowed twin stars. The longing within them was unmistakable, a sweet offering he craved to taste.

“You… brought the form?” Elim asked, his voice quivering.

Julian nodded earnestly.

What else could he do - what else could he possibly say to persuade the man he loved more than anything, that this was real…

“Elim…” He pleaded with every atom in him, “May I kiss you?”

The man before him shivered.

Julian knew his eyes were begging for permission, even as his face inched closer, pulled into the man’s gravity. Perhaps a less verbal reassurance was what they both needed. 

When Elim’s eyes fluttered closed, he knew he had permission.

So he kissed his cheeks, his ridges, his eyelids – every scrap of skin available. And when his tender exploration took him to the corners of Elim’s lips, he looked up to find a soft gaze fixed upon him.

“Let me show you, Elim…”

_ Show you how much I love you. _

“Let me show you just how perfectly we fit together.”

His breaths had turned shallow in anticipation, body tense and waiting for a proper sign of acceptance. 

For once, Elim seemed just as breathless as he spoke the softest-

“You can take what’s yours… can’t you?” 

Julian trembled from head to toe as Elim mirrored his words.

“_Mirror of my soul_…” He whispered in Kardassi and kissed Elim like he hadn’t seen him in years.

The moment Garak melted in his arms, yielding completely, Julian knew his wish was granted. At once he was a heartbeat, thundering in his fingertips; a golden light spilling and expanding; a lush crimson plain swaying in every direction - as far as the eye could see. He was all that he had ever been, and all that he would be, suspended in a single moment. This was what Elim had given him by opening his eyes to other possibilities of existence. 

He loved what he would become by his side.

Elim’s fingers drifted tentatively to Julian’s waist. The touch was hesitant, fearful almost. Julian encouraged him with a blissful sigh and soft silken kisses, waiting for Elim to seek comfort in any way he wished. He kept his hands on the ridges of Elim’s face and neck, infusing every caress with undiluted emotion. 

“It’s too soon…” Garak muttered in Standard.

“_Too soon for what, my love_?” Julian replied in Kardassi.

Elim’s eyes softened, as they always did when Julian used Cardassian gestures or language correctly.

There was something infinitely precious about being so appreciated for his efforts.

“_What do you need, Elim_?”

His question was met by lowered eyes and a calloused hand sliding underneath the fabric of his shirt to meet the warm skin on his right side. As soon as Elim’s palm brushed him, Julian felt warm tingles spreading from the point of contact and radiating in every direction. 

He’d always needed to infer what Garak meant. Back then he thought it was because the tailor liked playing with him, and certainly, that could have been part of the reason, but not the main one. 

Elim’s lies all served to protect the softest parts of him. 

It also meant he never outwardly said what he wanted, not even when it was in his best interests. At least not when he was feeling particularly vulnerable. This meant Julian had to infer, once again, what Elim was trying to say in his tentative, roundabout way. 

The gray palm rested against his skin almost like Elim was soaking up his warmth. He’d said the nights were cold… He clearly wanted something but then said it was too soon…

Too soon for what?

Clearly Elim wanted to feel his bare skin but was uncomfortable with more…

_ Oh, so that’s what it is… _

“Elim,” Julian asked cautiously, “Would you mind if we lay down? I had a really draining day…”

By not making it about Garak, maybe those defenses would be less likely to engage.

When Elim moved his chin in acceptance, Julian flashed him a grateful smile.

“Let me change into my pajamas, ok?” He suggested softly, hoping Elim would take the chance to say something.

Julian thought about turning around to change, but didn’t see the point. Sure, it could give Garak a modicum of space to gather himself, but then it might send a message that Julian was somehow ashamed, which was the furthest thing from the truth. He failed to suppress a yawn and shimmied out of his trousers, draping them lazily over the cot.

“I’m sorry for not folding my clothes properly, I know it drives you crazy but-“

“Forget them.” Elim cut him off, looking every bit as tired as Julian felt. Not one to squander the given opportunity, Julian removed his shirt and went to rummage in his bag for pajamas when warm fingers brushed against his forearm.

“Leave it, Julian…”

Elated at the fact Garak had actually verbalized his needs, Julian promptly abandoned the endeavor. Wanting to give Elim the space to undress (if he so desired), he reached for the mattress resting against the wall and set about lowering it into its usual night-time place. He smoothed down the sheet, dusting it off in the process, and reached for the folded blanket on the cot. Once it was unfolded, he sat down on the mattress, draped the blanket over his legs and then fussed with it, trying to buy more time.

He realized he was nervous.

_ But why? _ _ _

Interactions with Elim hadn’t made him nervous since…

_ Since I came here… Too afraid to touch… Too afraid I was undeserving of his friendship… _

He was so busy thinking that he startled when Elim slipped under the blanket with him. Julian moved to embrace him when he gasped at the touch of bare Cardassian skin molding against him from chest to hip. He failed to suppress a shiver of excitement and need induced by the unexpected feel of scales and ridges.

Julian wanted to ask whether he was allowed to embrace him, when Elim took the choice from him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him closer. Julian expelled a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding and melted into the embrace. 

It had only been a day, but he had missed this so much… The way his head tucked into Elim’s neck, the way his beloved’s scales felt beneath his fingertips, even the hip and chest ridges that tended to dig into his skin slightly… He craved any tiny point of contact, every breath and scent.

“I missed this…” He confessed into the darkness, holding Elim close. “I know it’s only been a day and that you could say I’m being silly-“

He was interrupted by a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Not… silly?” He asked, looking Elim in the eyes expectantly.

“What else did you miss?” Garak asked, making Julian’s heart flutter.

“Everything…” Julian admitted quietly, gatherings his thoughts like precious baubles, “Sharing breakfast with you…. News… Conversing over a cup of tea in the evening… Just being in your presence. Seeing your eyes… Feeling your palm against mine…”

It was the truth. 

“Elim…” Julian said softly, caressing the line of his ridged jaw, “It’s the little moments… But I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

He observed the man he loved, the way he sighed and relaxed, running a hand down his ribs.

“Going without you for a single day…” Julian choked. “I don’t want that. Ever again. I know we’re both busy and that our schedules won’t always overlap but just this, at the end of a long day… I need it… I didn’t even know how much.”

Garak heaved a massive sigh. 

“Speaking of incompatible schedules and time spent apart…” Elim began, shifting slightly to get more comfortable, “Kelas brought news from Alon. He needs someone to make a tour of the provinces and check on the living conditions, production, rebuilding efforts and the like. While Kelas might be a good choice, considering he is a doctor, he does have a full-time job at Barvonok, not to mention the fact he is too soft-hearted for his own good.”

“Let me guess,” Julian said, “He would promise everyone the moon?”

“What a charming notion!” Elim smiled mischievously, “Alas, no. He knows better than to make promises he cannot keep, especially in regards to provisions the government most likely doesn’t have. I am referring primarily to the fact he wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure. Alon needs someone firm and incorruptible.”

“And able to take care of himself, I suspect…” Julian observed.

“Just so.” Elim acknowledged. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this assignment… will take me away from the capitol for a not insignificant amount of time.”

“How long?” Julian asked, knowing in advance he would care nothing for the answer. 

“Two to three weeks.”

“But that’s longer than I have left on Prime!” Julian whined.

“I know, my dear…” Elim soothed, “But as you so eloquently put it, I am married to my work just as much as you are to yours.”

Julian remembered. With a suffering huff, he burrowed deeper into Elim’s warmth.

“I just hope you didn’t accept this assignment because you wanted to run away from me.”

He was surprised by the amount of hurt his voice unwittingly revealed.

“I would have gone regardless.” Elim said soberly, but Julian knew what he meant. 

The escape would have been a bonus. Julian knew a little bit about burying himself in work to stop thinking. Or try to, at least. 

“When do you leave?” Julian asked, hoping it wouldn’t be for a few days more. They needed to reestablish normalcy and this assignment had come at the worst possible time.

“Tomorrow around midday.”

Julian’s gaze snapped back up. He knew his eyes were betraying everything he felt, but he had no energy to moderate his response.

“Can’t I go with you?” He bargained, making Elim chuckle.

“You will have your hands full at the Research Centre. If I dared take you away, Zeyem would have my head. She is quite taken with you, you know.” The Cardassian said wryly. “Plus, I believe you could refine your terraforming idea with Alon.”

“I was planning to,” Julian mumbled, “But I will miss you…”

Elim kissed his forehead and murmured, “Your absence will be keenly felt, Julian.”

He looked at the man he loved, bathed in shadows. Still, his eyes were like brilliant beacons in the night and Julian allowed himself to be drawn in.

The kiss was hesitant and soft. He waited for Elim to respond, waited for him to guide their intimacy. When it deepened, Julian moaned into the warm mouth of his lover, realizing he was kissing his husband.

_ My husband… _

_ _

It felt surreal.

Surreal and utterly wonderful.

“You taste of gelat, my love…” Elim muttered against his mouth and kissed him again.

“Mmmh-“ Julian smiled, “Is that approval I hear?”

He could feel the mischief in the smile blossoming against his lips.

“It could use sweetener… Next time, dissolve a piece of Delavian chocolate in it… I guarantee it improves the taste.”

Julian laughed happily.

“Speaking of taste…” He said licentiously and leaned in for another kiss. “Mmmm. I like the taste of plain, simple Elim.”

“Do you, now?” Elim feigned skepticism.

“You know I do… _My beautiful enjoined…” _Julian said reverently, pouring all of himself into words and touch.__

Elim rumbled low in his throat in a way Julian now knew signified deep contentment.

“How about you let me sign that form before we go to sleep?” He suggested and Julian beamed.

They would be all right.

_ They  _ were all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this heavy business is finally over! The rest of this fic is a nice, slow wrap-up! If you have questions or desires, or even theories - direct them my way! As always, I love hearing from you!
> 
> That said, I was very unsure about the quality of this chapter. I don't know if it flows well, and was uncertain about some of the dialogue... Ah well. Critique and suggestions also welcome!
> 
> I hope everyone reading this is ok - stay safe!


	99. Letters and Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Garak may be temporarily apart, but Julian keeps in touch by writing letters.
> 
> His shore leave on Cardassia is coming to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After two weeks, a new chapter! I am sorry, but other fics needed my immediate attention!
> 
> I hope you enjoy! ^^

| 

Dearest Elim,

It’s been three days since you left. I had written and scrapped half a dozen drafts because I wasn’t sure what to say. Then I figured saying anything is better than saying nothing, so… Here goes.

I miss you.

Yes, I can perfectly imagine your long-suffering sigh and that theatrical roll of the eyes you have mastered - telling me quite eloquently that I am horridly sentimental and that you’re dreadfully put upon for having to listen to my nonsense.

And I also know you would secretly be pleased. But enough about that. I know how much you appreciate your air of mystery, and I would be a terrible husband to strip you of it. Hypocritical too, considering I actually enjoy it (in moderation).

I hope your inspection is going well and that you’re not overworking yourself. Ghemor’s been trying to reassure me that the assistant he sent along would be of use, but I will just fear for you until I hear from you again. No, scratch that, I will worry until I get to see you, because I know you’re perfectly capable of lying to me and pretending everything is fine. 

Please, stay safe.

I suppose this is the part where I’m supposed to share my own news? I don’t know how much Alon has told you, but the terraforming project is slowly taking shape. Keiko got back to me yesterday and offered invaluable insight. She seemed truly excited by the prospect of visiting Ba’aten and cataloguing some of the species to check for suitability. I mentioned the Mekar wilderness as well, and managed to beg a detailed map of Cardassia Prime off Alon, which I sent along to Keiko. It would be so much easier to have her here with us, but until a team is formed on Cardassia, there would be little she could do as an off-worlder. Ghemor is putting out feelers and searching for any surviving experts - geologists, agronomists, botanists, climatologists, and the like. You would be entirely unsurprised by the number of experts relegated to grunt work in the aftermath of the Dominion War. I believe it’s currently marked as an agricultural project, since that the only way we could get away with it. Andak was flagged as a good candidate, once we get the logistics all ironed out. We will need you, Elim. You’re frighteningly good at organizing things.

Then again, I always found you staggeringly competent at whatever you chose to do. 

(Maybe leave the medicine to me, though? Surely you wouldn’t begrudge me that.)

The reason why I discarded so many versions of this letter is the fact I was trying to write it in Kardassi. Sadly, it seems my written is even worse than my spoken, and while you would have probably been amused by my many blunders, I decided to spare myself the inevitable chiding. I know, I know – it’s flirting, but at times I find myself needing… Gentleness. I know you feel the same. 

Plus, a part of me feels it prudent to send you letters that not many could read at a glance. Surely you wouldn’t want people to know how silly and sentimental the human you enjoined with is.

That said, I will still allow myself an endearment in your native language –

_Mirror of my soul; I await the day I will see you once more._

Always yours,

Julian

|   
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“_Are you going to actually send this one_?” Telat ribbed him affectionately and Julian laughed.

“_The joke’s on you_,” Julian said smugly. “_I already have_!”

Akot giggled. 

“_Have you heard from him yet_?” She inquired, sipping her water primly.

“_Only that he arrived safely. He wasn’t exactly generous with the details_.” Julian grumbled, hoping Elim would take pity on him and reply to his letter.

“_I am sure he is simply busy, Zhulian_.” Telat said, “_I don’t think he would punish you with silence_.”

Julian was of the same opinion, but he still worried. 

“_Are you going to work on your mysterious project again_?” Akot asked, clearly fishing for information.

“_No, not tonight_.” Julian said gently. “_I have to bring the mended clothing to the orphanage as Elim promised_.”

“_You’ll get to see your children_?” Telat smiled widely.

“_Yes_!” Julian laughed warmly. “_I am really looking forward to it_!”

“_You must introduce us when you adopt them_!” She exclaimed enthusiastically and Julian’s heart warmed at the sight.

“_I will, sister-mine_.” He promised. “_It would be lovely if you could bring Elkan. I would love to meet him!_”

The brightest, widest smile blossomed on her face at the mention of her baby brother.

“_Oh, yes! I tell him about you all the time! But he is shy… I need to prepare him for it_.”

Julian empathized. 

“_Oh_!” Akot blurted out, “_It’s not because you aren’t Cardassian – he’s that way with everyone_!”

Julian chuckled and gently grasped her forearm.

“_I know, Akot. It’s fine to dislike being paraded for strangers_.”

“_But you’re elder brother of mine_!” She said, completely dismayed. “_You’re not a stranger_!”

Julian brushed his thumb against her forearm soothingly.

“_Not to you… But I am to him_.” He said reasonably. “_Remember, it took you time to accept me. Surprisingly little time, when I look back on it. Don’t expect him to like me immediately. I certainly don’t. Give it time._”

Akot gestured acceptance and smiled. Julian was struck anew by her sweetness and marveled at the fact he got to see who she was once her reservations melted away. Being here with these wonderful people was a privilege. 

***

| 

My beloved Elim,

I was relieved to hear you are doing well, even if you do think certain individuals have diminished intelligence. Please, try to be kind? People have suffered enough. Naturally, I trust in your boundless self-control and wouldn’t dream of questioning you. Yes, I did just roll my eyes. You’re welcome.

I dropped off the mended clothing as you asked me to, and the caretaker seemed less than thrilled to see me, but I guess you can’t win them all? The children were so happy to receive them though; you should have seen their widely smiling faces! Also, don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve cannibalized your old tunics for these artful patches and reinforcements to their clothes. You are a good man, Elim Garak, and I am so proud of you. Maybe I should bring you more colorful fabrics so you can make them new clothing instead of sacrificing your own? Just a thought.

Our children seem well, Phela ran to my side almost the moment I arrived and offered me her tiny palm. I believe I have fallen into the same trap as every father in history before me – our daughter has got me firmly in her grasp. Once we have the means to, I fear I will spoil her rotten. I don’t think I could deny her anything, not when she looks at me with her big, trusting eyes. I can imagine you are sighing in exasperation right now, and I do not care. I love that little girl and would gladly be a little foolish for her sake. 

Our son is still wary of me, sadly. I believe he offers his palm out of some kind of filial obligation and not genuine affection, but I don’t mind. That can come later. He’s had more time to be treated abysmally by life than I’ve had to show him I am trustworthy. I will simply have to earn Rekat’s esteem. I don’t mind that, even if it saddens me to imagine the kind of life he’s led. He’s bound to you, my love. I think you probably see a bit of young Elim in him and the similarities likely run deeper than I could possibly imagine. I know you will give him the stability he needs, along with a gentle guiding hand. He really responds to you. You should have seen him, looking around me and trying to seem inconspicuous – looking for you. You’re the one he wanted to see. Still, a part of me feels glad you weren’t there, even if it broke my heart to see his crestfallen expression as I explained you would be away for a few weeks. This gives me the perfect excuse to see them every day after work, take them for walks; get to know them better. 

I’m fighting tears as I’m writing this – I came to Cardassia to apologize to you and to start anew. I thought this would result in a mended friendship, yet I got so much more instead. 

A wonderful new friend in Telat. A younger sister I feel protective of. A mother figure I never expected to find, on this world or any other.

I found a family in them.

And I built a family with you. 

Knowing you, you probably have some idea what this might mean to a boy whose real family was less than ideal. They could have just fixed my intelligence, you know. They could have made me average. My mother may insist they did it out of love, but the fact they went for the complete overhaul like I was some kind of malfunctioning machine… It stings, even now. 

Maybe I shouldn’t be writing this in a letter, but I miss you. I never really had an overabundance of people I could confide in. The fact I am now revealing my most intimate secrets to a former intelligence operative is not lost on me! And I suppose I shouldn’t have mentioned that either. Who knows who could be reading these! Good thing the Obsidian Order is gone, eh?

Too soon?

You know me, Elim. The more comfortable I am with someone, the more my brain to mouth filter dissolves. To be perfectly frank with you, I am tired of moderating myself, at least around the people closest to me. I hope you won’t hold my honesty against me. And no, I have not forgotten the words you spoke to me when we made love for the first time. I am merely being insecure. I hope you forgive that too. 

Our home doesn’t feel like much of a home when you’re away. The pillow is starting to lose your scent… I comfort myself with tea, carefully rationed so we don’t run out, and I promise I will bring more when I return! We are going to have growing children around and I don’t want them to go hungry, or to see us starving either. The example we set is going to mean so much more than words ever could. Perhaps we could ask Keiko for advice about nutritious plants hardy enough to thrive on Cardassia and test them in your garden before we suggest they be used in Andak? I know you enjoy gardening. I also know that you would enjoy not having to eat dry rations even more! Yes, I am laughing now – and you know it. Which reminds me, I should really take a picture of the children! I want to show Keiko and Miles; actually, I want to show everybody! I am terrible, aren’t I? I certainly hope you’ll curb my doting tendencies; otherwise, they are going to be absolute little monsters once I’m done caving in to their every whim!

Maybe I’m just going from one extreme to the other with this. I know I would never be like my parents, so my first instinct is to overcompensate and smother them with affection. I am even logically aware that they might find it repulsive because it’s so outside Cardassian cultural norms but I would like to believe that between you and me, we could strike a happy balance of giving them the structure they so desperately need, as well as the affection they had been denied…

I cannot wait to have you all in my arms.

I love you more than you could possibly know, and I am looking forward to a lifetime of opportunities to demonstrate it.

Your devoted husband,

Julian

P.S. It took me half an hour of rewrites to come up with an ending to this letter because I kept over-thinking it and wondering what would be appropriate. I ended up just going with the truth. It is more challenging than you would think!

|   
---|---|---  
  
***

“_Julyan_!” Akot called out to him as he was exiting the building, already on his way to the orphanage. “_Wait a metric_!”

He stopped in his tracks and looked at her warmly. 

“_What is it, sister_?” He said, noting her bashful smile. It seemed that calling her that still brought her considerable joy.

She beamed at him and linked arms, leaning in conspiratorially. 

“_Have you given Telat tea yet_?”

Julian looked at her funny.

“_Uh, what tea_?”

She babbled on in excited whispers, “_I thought you probably didn’t know the kind he liked, so I came to tell you what his favorite is-_“

“_Bitterbark__ and sweetroot, right_?” Julian offered, wondering what he was missing.

Akot looked at him in brief astonishment and then her face broke out in a grin.

“_You know! That’s great! I suppose you’re having a hard time finding it? Well, you didn’t hear this from me, but there’s this little market in Torr where you can come and barter for things – plenty of people are using it, you just have to know when it opens because it’s not the same every day, I guess that’s a remnant of the schedule before the Fire? Anyhow, tomorrow it opens at dawn, so you might want to go there really early, before work, because it’s only open until noon… I guess you could ask Zeyem to let the skimmer know to pick you up there, but that might be a misappropriation of resources…_”

Julian was trying really hard to understand what she was attempting to tell him. A market? That was always good to know. Weird opening hours? That too, he supposed… But the burning question was –

“_Akot__… Why would I need to give Telat tea? Is this another Cardassian custom I’ve never heard of_?”

Her eyes went wide for a moment and she seemed stunned. 

“_But… You got tea from Zeyem, didn’t you? And Telat? I thought… Wait, what did you think receiving tea was about?_”

Julian stopped in the middle of the corridor and stared at her.

“_I don’t know? I just thought it was a thoughtful gesture, I guess? Why? What did I miss now?_”

Akot let out a loud breath and seemed to be trying to gather her wits.

“_Right._ _ I should have thought of that when you told us you weren’t aware of courting or enjoining _ …” She said soberly and gave him a sympathetic look, “_It is customary to give a couple who is to be enjoined a tin of tea – preferably something they like, since it is expected of your friends and seniors to know you. Strangers or colleagues might give you the kinds you aren’t so keen on, but that proves they aren’t that close to you. It can also be deliberate – to show you they know their place in your life and that they aren’t trying to force themselves into your inner circle. It’s… a bit complex for a non-Cardassian, now that I think about it…_”

“_So… I, as a friend, am expected to give Telat and Vonek some tea? Do I have to give it to both of them individually, or?_”

“_Yes, you are expected to gift them some, and you usually give it to the person you are closer to, even though the gift is for the couple_.” Akot explained patiently.

“_So… I have to find a tin of bitterbark and sweetroot and give it to Telat because I consider him a close friend?_”

Akot’s face stretched to accommodate her brilliant smile.

“_Exactly_!”

“_All right… I will do that… Why tea, specifically? I’m guessing there’s some symbolic reason_?” Julian asked.

“_Oh_!” Akot exclaimed, “_Yes! Tea usually keeps rather long, if stored properly. It is both practical, since a new family will need to manage their own household, as well as a wish their Union be long and fruitful_.”

Julian smiled at her fondly.

“_What would I do without you, Akot_?”

She giggled.

“_Be completely lost, that’s what_!”

***

| 

My darling Elim,

I am pleased to hear any updates from you, even if they are two lines long. No, this is not supposed to be chiding - I really mean it! Besides, it would be highly hypocritical of me to chastise you for the brevity of your messages when I was the one who failed to respond to your letter for over two months. I am sorry about that, but as time goes by, I am beginning to realize I needed that time…

I was sorry to hear the soil is so poisoned in places that nothing will grow. More incentive for Project Andak, I suppose? I know this may come across as revoltingly optimistic, perhaps even dismissive of your anguish for Cardassia’s future, but that is not my intention. I want a blossoming Cardassia, my love, just as much as you do.

On that note, Keiko has gotten in touch with a few of her botanist colleagues and they have trawled through the partial database Ghemor managed to obtain from his small team.One of the Cardassian professors had been writing a book on edible plant life and various hybridization techniques; apparently backed-up on a dozen different locations with almost paranoid fervor. Good thing, too, since the Agricultural Institute was all but obliterated in the bombing. Their computer systems were reduced to slag. Anyhow, the teams aren’t really working together yet, since it’s not official on the Federation’s end, but word is spreading in the academic circles on Earth. I will be able to do more when I get back to DS9. I am attaching a report on our progress separately because I want to keep this letter private. I certainly can’t wax poetic in the report! 

You will be pleased to know that the saga of bitterbark and sweetroot tea has been resolved to everyone’s satisfaction! I was so surprised when Rekat offered to help me barter, even if his exact words were – “You would get skinned like a vole, better let me handle it.” Where does he get his cheek? I blame you! Then again, I wouldn’t love him half as much if he wasn’t cheeky. You are also to blame for that, by the way. Each time I remember your wicked ways, I have a terribly inconvenient reaction… Shame on you for corrupting me so! 

Before I get completely sidetracked by my memories of us, I should tell you I have booked passage back to DS9, and I will be leaving in five days. I don’t know whether my future letters will get through, but I will keep on writing them regardless. 

I will leave you something written on a PADD when you get home. Even if I am no longer there, my thoughts will be with you.

Forever yours,

Julian

|   
---|---|---  
  
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. This chapter resisted my formatting efforts, thank Mr Sya for his leet programming skills!
> 
> This marks the end of his two months on Cardassia! Will his transfer request be granted? Will he bump into Ezri? Will he embarrass himself by not having a functional translator? 
> 
> As always, I live for your comments! (I am sorry it took me 2 weeks to post, but I ran out of written material for this story and the closer I get to the end, the harder it is to write...)


	100. Back to DS9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian returns from his two-month shore leave.
> 
> Kira greets him upon his return.
> 
> Julian has a long conversation with Ezri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, oh my God. Chapter 100. If someone told me when I started writing that this story would be 220k-ish (or more) I'd have laughed in their face. 
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoy!

Clutching his bag and yawning, he stepped off the transport and into the familiar yet somewhat harsh light of the station. It was a wonder what two months in the comparatively lower light could do to a person. He squinted for a moment and was surprised when a firm hand clapped him on the forearm.

“Nerys!” He exclaimed happily as her brightly illuminated features coalesced before him. Her smile was dazzling as she hugged him, squeezing him perhaps a tad too hard. 

Julian laughed and disengaged. 

“It’s good to see you again!” He said sincerely and she narrowed her eyes. 

“Julian-“ The rest of the sentence came in her native language. It sounded quite lovely, even if he didn’t have a clue what she was saying.

“Sorry, Nerys.” He apologized sheepishly, “But I cannot understand a word you’re saying.”

He didn’t actually need a translator to discern the meaning of her slightly aggravated voice and posture. She was more than likely saying – “What do you mean, you can’t understand me??”

“Had a mishap with my translator implant, so… I’ll need a new one.”

She sighed and pointed to his combadge.

Julian grinned and tapped it. Now that it was in range of the station, its translator function was restored.

“I discovered I actually enjoy hearing native languages without the translation.”

“Well, how do you plan on doing your job without it? You aren’t just treating Cardassians here!” She exclaimed, hands on her hips in a slightly aggressive stance. Having just come back from Cardassia, he could see exactly why she was so appealing to the Cardassian eye. Her entire bearing was full of subdued aggression. He knew she had calmed down considerably since they first met, but her buzzing energy could not be contained. It read as very… intense. 

He chuckled.

“I will have it replaced, don’t worry. I just have to sign a requisition form. And I will have you know, in case nobody told you, that your confrontational manner would be interpreted as very flirty by Cardassians. “ With that he raised his hands in a placating gesture, “Don’t shoot the messenger!”

“What do you mean – flirty?” Kira said, utterly aghast.

Julian laughed.

“If you start an argument with someone right out the gate, or add little digs at their competence, it is precisely what a Cardassian would do to signal they were interested. Just saying!”

Her face changed expressions so rapidly it seemed like a carousel of disgust and embarrassment, going round a few times.

“That’s why Akot argued with you, by the way. I think you left her a tad smitten.”

“What!” Nerys cried out, holding her reddening face in her palms. 

“Mhm,” Julian confirmed with a grin, “She was sad she flirted back so poorly, sweet thing.”

“I thought I really upset her!” Nerys said in dismay, waving her arms wildly. 

“Nope.” Julian snickered, “Merely flustered.”

Nerys groaned.

“Well, I’ll take you to your newly assigned quarters, since Ezri’s kicked you out.” She said, clearly only marginally more comfortable with the changed topic.

Julian didn’t care where he was put, to be honest. It wouldn’t be home for very long. His home was with Elim, anyhow.

“How is she?” Julian inquired, hoping he wasn’t putting Nerys in a difficult situation by asking.

She shrugged, her stride measured and firm.

“Determined to pass her command exam.”

Julian nodded absentmindedly. It made sense. Once she passed it, she could get reassigned to a ship, which he assumed was something she wanted, especially now when he was out of the picture. There was something deeply comforting about the fact she was trying to move on with her life. Just like him. If only he’d handled it better…

In retrospect, he knew he couldn’t have, though. He hadn’t possessed the self-awareness necessary to do anything beyond what he’d actually done. And no matter how awful it was that he’d hurt her, hating himself for it would accomplish little. Perhaps…

Perhaps it was ok to forgive himself for not knowing better. 

Perhaps apologizing, as inadequate as it was, would have to suffice. Julian wanted to make amends, maybe even stay friends, he just wasn’t sure how. He would have to have a civil conversation with her, first. And no matter how afraid he was of confrontation, sometimes the best thing one could do was not to allow wounds to fester overlong. The fact he hadn’t spoken or written a single thing to her since their explosive breakup made him wonder what state he would find her in. 

Julian let Nerys take him to his new room, where he dropped his duffel bag on the small table. 

“Have you received the transfer request I sent you?” Julian inquired, “I know communications from Cardassia don’t always come through.”

“I got it.” Nerys smiled at him, “Don’t worry, it’s been forwarded to Starfleet Command. I should be hearing from them soon.”

Julian sighed heavily, looking at his spartan quarters. They felt empty and impersonal, for all their Cardassian austere glory. There was no trace of the initial giddiness he’d felt while dumping his bag in his quarters when he first came aboard as a fresh-faced CMO, eager and bubbling with anticipation for all the adventure he was sure awaited him. To his surprise, there was not even a twinge of nostalgia for those days. DS9 had been a home… The intermediary, utilitarian kind. Now, he knew what true home felt like.

Tasted like.

Smelled like.

A smile blossomed on his face.

“You are just miles away, aren’t you?” Nerys said wryly. “Left your heart on Cardassia Prime?” She jested, making him laugh.

“You don’t know how right you are!” He said happily, looking at her warm brown eyes. She seemed genuinely comfortable with the idea now and he had no words to express the immensity of his relief and gratitude.

“I had my reservations, Julian,” Kira admitted, “But seeing you two together… Garak seems like a new man.” 

“He’s not,” Julian smiled warmly. “He’s the same man he’d always been underneath.”

Nerys gave him a shrewd look.

“In that case, I am glad it’s no longer quite so well-hidden!” She exclaimed with her usual energy, and then her face mellowed. “It’s a good look on him. Happiness suits him.”

This brought an almost stupidly beaming smile to his face.

“Thank you, Nerys!” Julian smiled as widely as his face would allow and hugged her. He seemed to have actually managed to knock the wind out of her for a moment before she started laughing and squeezed him tight. Julian let the embrace linger because it felt nice to just hold a friend. The tendril that bound him to Nerys felt strong and unwavering, almost dazzling. “Your support… means a lot to me.” He admitted, disentangling from her.

Nerys was very beautiful when her eyes crinkled. He was now doubly glad he’d completely botched his initial overtures with that stupid frontier line. This way, he’d managed to slowly earn her esteem and friendship instead. 

“You have the rest of the day off, I thought you might like this time to rest for a bit and get back to the rhythm of station life.” 

“That’s very considerate of you, Nerys. Thank you.” Julian said sincerely.

“I’ll leave you to settle in.” She smiled and headed for the door. 

Julian didn’t bother saying anything else. As the doors slid closed behind her, he gazed out the viewport into the starry expanse and knew exactly where Cardassia lay.

“I’ll be back before you know it, Elim…” He muttered, sighed and headed into the bathroom to take a long shower.

He knew he’d need all his wits for the upcoming conversation with Ezri. Leaving it for later was inadvisable, so he wouldn’t.

He only hoped she wouldn’t explode in his face again…

Julian shuddered as the subtle hum cleaned his sweaty, dust-choked skin.

***

Julian had debated whether to bring Ezri something, but then decided not to. Any gestures had the potential to be horrifically misunderstood. 

So, here he was, pacing along the corridor leading to her quarters, apprehension growing by the minute. Should he have worn civilian clothes? Maybe the uniform was too stiff for such a conversation… Then again, civvies could make him appear too casual about the whole affair and he wanted to broach the topic with at least some measure of gravity it deserved. That is why he arrived impeccably shaven, combed and dressed into a new uniform. No cologne, however. He didn’t want to give her the wrong impression. This wasn’t an attempt to seduce her or to get back into her good graces, merely an attempt to have a civil conversation with her.

He stood in front of what used to be their door and pressed the chime. 

Their quarters.

It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Now all he could see was a random, non-descript Cardassian door that once led into a life he craved. How fast things could change, leaving shells of dreams behind… 

The doors slid open, revealing a stony-faced Ezri.

She immediately crossed her arms and leveled him with an icy glare. 

“What do you want?” She spat coldly, hostility radiating off of her in waves – relentless and palpable. “All your stuff is in the storage, there’s nothing left here. I even fished out your stupid socks from under the couch. I didn’t bother washing them. I’d say have a nice day, but I’m not feeling especially charitable right now.”

“I don’t care about my stuff, Ezri.” Julian said seriously. “That’s not why I’m here.”

Ezri regarded him with undisguised contempt.

“Then why are you here?” She asked, even though he could tell she wanted to throw something deadly at him. God, he hoped the bat’leth was out of reach. Just because violence wasn’t Ezri’s preferred method of resolving conflict, didn’t mean she wouldn’t use it if the situation warranted. 

Julian sighed and squared his shoulders, looking her straight in the eye.

“I am here to apologize and talk to you… I know there isn’t much I can say to make things better, but I would hate to leave things as they are. For all my years of friendship with Jadzia, and then with you, it would be awful not to at least try to address the situation. Please, Ezri… Hear me out?”

She exhaled excruciatingly slowly and stepped aside without a word. 

“Thank you.” He murmured in relief and stepped into the room, glad he’d managed to get this far. Now if only he could make himself understood without wounding her further…

Julian scanned the room and wondered only briefly where to sit. The couch was out of the question. Table it was. He pulled out a chair and sat down, placing hands on the surface and trying not to fidget. The anxiety and discomfort were churning below the surface but he didn’t want to give in to them. Acknowledging his feelings, he took a deep breath and looked up.

Ezri was hovering by the chair on the opposite side of the table, clearly debating whether to take a seat or not.

Julian took a look around.

He’d been happy here, hadn’t he? 

This table had seen its share of breakfasts, spilled tea and smears of moba jam. Ezri would always laugh at the crumbs he left behind and he would point out her side of the table hardly looked any better. They’d spent evenings snuggling on the couch, talking about their hopes for the future. Ezri had talked about a command post and he had talked about his research.

Both of them had been seeking normalcy and comfort. 

Julian sighed at the realization that he had no idea what he wanted then. He’d been running away from the emptiness for so long; become so adept at filling it up with work or ignoring it outright that he missed what his heart had been trying to tell him. He had needed…

Peace. 

A place where he was free to be himself.

_ Home. _ _ _

All of it now in his grasp.

It was no wonder he hadn’t known, how could he have? He had such a terrible example growing up. Family was someone to be at war with, someone whose love was conditional and unattainable. Family were people who expected perfection yet were incapable of it. His father, always shifting the goalposts, dangling his approval like a carrot to his cruelly stinging stick of endless recrimination, passive-aggressive posturing and petty insults designed to erode his self-esteem. 

Julian realized his idea of family had changed right along with him. He had faith that Garak would never treat him so abysmally. Real love didn’t seek to undermine or belittle…

True love always nurtured and uplifted. 

Or at the very least tried to.

So what was it between him and Ezri? It hadn’t been selfish, or unkind. They’d both tried their best.

Why should there be shame in trying your best and failing regardless? Sometimes… Love alone wasn’t enough. Failing to love someone in the ways they needed you to… It happened all the time. 

Julian watched her slip into the chair on the opposite side of the table. 

It didn’t seem like she was inclined to speak, or make this any easier on him – which was fine. He’d been the one that had scuttled their relationship. It was only fair he be the one to attempt to repair the damage.

“I suppose it’s fair I start from the beginning…” Julian began slowly, trying to be as tactful as possible. “I came to apologize since we both know I am the one at fault. I won’t bother excusing or justifying what I’ve done since there is nothing to be said in my defense that wouldn’t come across as either cruel or insensitive. I will, however, share my perspective, as this is the only thing I can do. I want to be honest with you since I believe you deserve it.”

Ezri stared at him, as if she was trying to assess his truthfulness. Julian didn’t let it discourage him. 

“When I first read Garak’s letter… It shocked me. It brought into sharp contrast just how much I had neglected our friendship… How poorly I repaid his enduring affection. The letter had shaken my perceptions and made me question many things, but when I decided to go to Cardassia, all I wanted was to mend that friendship, nothing more. It was only when I got there did I begin to realize the trip had become a quest of sorts. I wanted his forgiveness, at first. Then I started working at the Research Centre and my colleagues were the most wonderful people… Zeyem was stern, yet fair – even playful. After initial reservations, Akot turned into a sweet, warm presence. The nurses, Telat and Vonek… Always so competent… They accepted me as one of their own. There I was, on a destroyed Cardassia – accepted and beloved by my peers. Nobody telling me I was annoying or immature. Nobody claiming that me being silent and solemn was a sign that I was finally growing up. I realized on that broken world that I too was broken.”

A hint of anger stirred in her eyes, belying her impassive features. He was sad to see her so miserable. She didn’t deserve that.

“What I’m trying to say, probably very poorly, is that I found a safe space there. With my colleagues. And with Garak. I didn’t even know I had needed it until I had it. I guess… Finally feeling safe… Broke the dam.”

Ezri was peering at him, sitting as stiffly as a statue.

“I expressed the most painful things I dared not admit even to myself before. I realized how dependent I had become on compartmentalizing my pain away so I wouldn’t have to deal with it. I became aware of my atrocious coping mechanisms; my avoidance, my rationalizations, my stubborn insistence that I was fine. You have only ever tried to help me, Ezri, yet I couldn’t appreciate it. I responded to your efforts poorly, and for that I am also sorry. I am not sure why I accepted Garak’s help and not yours… I don’t know. What I do know is that I hurt you with my thoughtlessness and insensitivity. I won’t ask for forgiveness, because you have every right to be mad at me for as long as you want. Too often do we ask the wronged party for forgiveness, almost like it’s their duty to be the better person. I don’t want to do that to you.”

Ezri blinked, her brow furrowing in what looked like surprise before she resumed her scowling. 

“In the process of figuring out what was wrong with me, I had to re-contextualize everything. I realized I felt more for Garak than I’d previously been aware of. By unpacking all of the complicated feelings I’d been too afraid to address, some things just came into light. You were right about a previous trauma being triggered. You were right about many things… I did hurt him. It may have been due to several miserable misunderstandings, but it doesn’t change the end result. You know me fairly well, Ezri…” Julian said gently, “I am not always very good at knowing what I feel. I’d been forced to hide my secrets for so long that the impulse is just ingrained at this point. It’s always been easier to smile and pretend I was fine than to come out and say what was wrong. Lying to everyone else taught me how to lie even to myself, and proficiently at that.”

Her blank stare was gutting. 

“I am sorry for what I did to you. It was cruel and unfair. But the sad thing is… I didn’t know any better. And I don’t mean this as an excuse, merely the statement of a lamentable fact. I will be fine with any boundary you set and I will respect it. If you tell me never to contact you again, I won’t.”

Anger flashed across her usually gentle features.

“So that’s it, huh? You come to monologue at me and give yourself an out under the guise of not letting me suffer?”

Julian sighed.

“It was not my intention to monologue at you. If my wording was clumsy, I apologize. I do have a bad tendency to ramble.”

He frowned as soon as he’d said it. Why was he debasing himself over what he was? Why was his earnestness not enough? She’d been his friend for years; surely she knew he never acted out of malice.

Then again… One didn’t need to act from malice to bring about disaster. 

“If you would like to speak to me… I am here.” Julian offered.

“I doubt you’d like what I have to say.” Ezri deadpanned.

Julian gazed at her warmly, squashing the impulse to take her hand. He had a feeling it would be unwelcome.

“If you want to say it, I will listen.” He promised.

“How generous of you.” She sneered.

Julian was surprised by the fact he wasn’t hurt by her tone. People lashed out when they were hurt. It was normal. So he let the silence stretch. He wasn’t completely comfortable with it, but he knew further unsolicited input from him was unnecessary. Garak would be so proud.

The thought filled him with warmth.

“Do you have any idea how it feels to be the person who has all of your attention and love?” Ezri muttered with spite. Julian didn’t really understand the question.

“Do you know how jarring it is to go from all that warmth and affection to distant looks and distracted mutterings?”

He hadn’t really thought about that before. Julian needed only to imagine Garak doing the same and shuddered. It would be the worst feeling in the world.

“I… I didn’t know how that felt, no.” Julian admitted.

It was difficult to imagine being so important to someone that their entire perception changed and shifted. Being so needed that life without them seemed unimaginable. 

He looked at Ezri with fresh eyes. 

Had she been so grounded in him that his feelings changing ripped her moorings?

What a strange parallel.

“I was gradually losing you for two months, Julian. You would think that would make it easier, but it doesn’t.”

“Entropy…” He muttered, then caught himself and tried to explain, “I didn’t want to burden you and at the same time I was incapable of being forthright with you. My feelings were genuine – I cared for you and I was attracted to you. I enjoyed spending time with you… But the way I was… Was just no good for a proper relationship.”

He had run out of things to learn about himself… 

“You never really loved me, Julian.” Ezri said bitterly. “And I clung to you because I had a crush on you. You were sweet and passionate and I thought you liked me. Ezri Tigan was star-struck. Dax, however… Dax was very cautious. I overrode their concerns and didn’t listen. But I’m not Ezri Tigan anymore, Julian. I am Ezri Dax. I was struggling so hard to stay afloat with my own personality trapped in a sea of other voices, that I ignored even the good advice they had. I don’t think I can afford to do that anymore. Dax is a part of me now and I am a part of Dax. And the only way I can learn about who I am is to be on my own for the foreseeable future. No more clinging to others. I have to learn how to stand on my own two feet.”

“I wish you the best of luck.” Julian said honestly. 

Ezri sighed and slumped, leaning back in her chair. 

“You haven’t said what became of you and Garak. I am probably a masochist for asking, “ She said self-deprecatingly, then added, “But I want to know. For closure, if nothing else. Or schadenfreude, whichever.”

Julian allowed himself a wry little smile.

“I didn’t want to open any wounds, so I didn’t mention it but if you’re interested…”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Hit me.”

“We’re… We’ve…” Color rose in his cheeks and he coughed. “We, um… We signed a civil partnership on Cardassia. It’s not marriage, per se…” He scratched the back of his neck to dispel his discomfort, “But it’s the closest thing two men can have there.”

Ezri looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. 

“It’s not a phase.” Julian asserted. “I know you would say I’ve rushed into this-“

Ezri’s humorless chuckle interrupted his train of thought.

“You’ve been dancing around each other for almost eight years. If there’s anyone in this universe that can hold your attention, it’s probably Garak.”

It may have been spoken from a place of aggravation and pain, but she wasn’t wrong. If a relationship was over the moment you had nothing left to learn about yourself… Then he sincerely doubted he and Garak could ever be over. Elim would always have something more to teach; some new and tantalizing horizon to explore. Julian could get lost in the man happily and enjoy the slowly revealing puzzle for the rest of his days. 

“You were right.” Julian admitted quietly. “I did love him. I just wasn’t aware exactly in what way. And I have you to thank for opening my eyes.” He said earnestly, “Thank you, Ezri. You could have left me to flounder, as revenge for what I’d done, but you didn’t. You helped me instead. I’m deeply grateful.”

She did cry at that. 

Angry little sobs. 

Clenched fists on the table.

“I am sorry I was incapable of giving you what you needed.” Julian said softly and watched her begin to cry in earnest, anger melting away and being replaced by sheer sadness. Not knowing what to say, he leaned forward and placed his hands gently over hers.

She didn’t move away and kept crying.

He kept brushing his thumb over her knuckles and let her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think Ezri and Julian can ever be friends again?
> 
> In anyone has any desires what they'd like to see in the last few chapters, let me know! :)


	101. Transfer Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A worried Kira summons Julian to her office. 
> 
> Julian finds out what happened with his transfer request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting so close to the end!! I increased the chapter count by one because I decided to add a nice epilogue...

Julian was in the Infirmary, catching up on some paperwork and requisition forms. He'd assumed the place could run smoothly without him but now he was forced to amend that opinion. Not as smoothly, after all. Oh, there was nothing glaringly terrible, but their reserves of certain compounds were dwindling and he didn't wish to get caught in the next outbreak of Bolian flu with his proverbial pants down. It always paid to be as well-stocked as possible; after all, they weren't exactly close to the heart of the Federation here. The Dominion War had affected the supply routes. When he scanned all the inventory manifests, he noticed they'd been receiving supplies with dwindling frequency, and those they did manage to get, didn't always contain everything they'd asked for. As always, it was a matter of priorities. 

It was a deeply sobering thought. 

Compared to the state of Cardassian hospitals, DS9’s Infirmary was stocked up to the gills. 

Julian was glad to have written a deeply impassioned report stating Cardassia’s many needs. Ghemor’s request was, in comparison, very level-headed and neutral in tone. Written by a perfect politician. Julian had no such constraints and was well aware he had probably gone too far. Reports usually followed a format but considering he hadn’t been _obligated_ to write one, meant he had more freedom to express himself. Garak had called him _dangerously sentimental_ and a _bleeding Federation heart_ yet conceded it might just be the thing to sway someone where cool logic couldn’t. Such an admission from a man as cynical as Garak spoke volumes. 

Perhaps he had indeed infected Elim with his insufferable optimism. That thought alone had him smiling ear to ear. 

His console chirped and he absent-mindedly tapped the command to let the call through.

Nerys’s voice filled the air.

“Julian, come to my office.”

“Huh?” He blurted and looked at the screen. She seemed almost… spooked? That was not a common look on one Kira Nerys – a woman used to staring down things and people more fearsome than her (in theory, for she was probably the toughest, most fierce woman he’d ever met).

“What’s wrong?” Julian asked with mounting worry.

“I don’t know yet.” She said gravely, clearly unsettled by the fact she didn’t know. “Just get over here.”

Obediently, Julian dropped everything he was doing, nodded to Nurse Jabara on his way out and took long strides towards Ops, hurrying as much as he could without outright running. He jumped into the nearest turbolift and kept tapping his foot the entire ride to Ops. Whatever it was that was capable of making Nerys weary, he had a suspicion it warranted the entirety of his nervousness. 

Could it be a call from Cardassia?

Surely…

Surely not.

He fought the sudden onslaught of apprehension and tried his best not to let it grow into full-blown panic. Garak could take care of himself just fine.

But what if it wasn’t Garak?

What if it was one of the children?

Eyes wide with fright, he jumped out of the turbolift and sprinted for Kira’s office. 

As soon as the doors whooshed open, he blurted:

“It’s not from Cardassia, is it? Are the kids ok? Is Elim-“

“Julian!” Kira exclaimed, pleading with her eyes he shut up. 

He snapped his jaw shut and instinctively straightened up, as rigid as a pole. 

“I will leave you to your call with Admiral Nechayev.” She said significantly, stood up and vacated the office. Julian’s eyes boggled and he stared at the screen displaying the usual haughty features of the blonde Admiral. He gulped. What the hell would she want with him??

“Admiral!” He greeted, trying for polite, but probably coming across as embarrassingly panicked.

Nechayev quirked an amused smile.

“At ease, Lieutenant.”

Julian got a momentary flash of feeling he initially held for Zeyem yet realized he’d lost over time. Moje no longer made him feel afraid that he’d just bungled something up monumentally. Despite the Admiral’s instruction, his posture didn’t relax by much.

“May I know what this is about, Admiral?” He inquired politely, dreading her answer in advance. 

“It’s about the report you sent along with Representative Ghemor’s politely worded request for aid, Doctor Bashir.”

Uh oh. How much trouble was he in?

Julian gulped. 

“You made quite a stir, Doctor Bashir. Some of my colleagues weren’t sure what to make of you, and to be perfectly honest with you, neither did I. Your transfer request is controversial to say the least.”

Julian frowned.

“Why?”

Nechayev raised an eyebrow and looked at him in assessment. 

“Why?” She repeated, “Lieutenant… Not only was it baseless – we have no political presence on Cardassia as of yet, any attempts to establish diplomatic relations have been politely stonewalled on their part – we cannot even arrange for an exchange of Ambassadors; and yet you requested a transfer to a post that literally doesn’t exist yet! Then, you’ve presumptuously sent an outline for an extremely ambitious project which you’ve co-authored with Alon Ghemor, a man whom Starfleet Intelligence assures me is on the fast track to becoming the next Castellan of the Cardassian Union. Do you have _any_ idea what kind of splash you made?”

Julian paled.

Ghemor ? The next Castellan?

He stared at Nechayev dumbstruck. 

“I had no idea Ghemor was even being considered for the position…” He admitted.

“You’ve spent two months there, Bashir.” Nechayev made an impatient and dismissive hand gesture, “Surely you know something about their political climate!”

“Well… As you say, I know _something_. Whatever I knew was included in the report…”

“It was quite exhaustive, I am aware. Even if it was overly flowery in places.” She observed, flashing him a piercing look. “Are you even remotely aware of how this looks, Lieutenant?”

Julian honestly didn’t know how to respond to that. What kind of answer did she expect?

“I am aware the Terraforming Project is an expansive and long-term endeavor, and I thought it would be a good opportunity to establish a stronger relationship between Cardassia and the Federation-“

“Yes, yes,” She interrupted him condescendingly, “Spare me the pitch, Bashir. I don’t need convincing. Luckily for you, the experts at the Daystrom Institute have run through the simulations and concluded that without a project similar to Andak, the Cardassian Union has at most three years of feeble struggling before dissolving into anarchy. Yes, Bashir. The Union will starve itself to death without self-sufficiency, or at least significant and long-term aid. The latter is currently quite beyond our purview, what with our own rebuilding efforts. And despite your presumptuousness, it’s indisputable that the last thing this Quadrant needs is an entire former militaristic race turning pirate and splintering into who knows how many different States. It would be chaos of such epic proportions that nobody would be able to stabilize that region of space for the next couple of centuries. A scattered, desperate Cardassia is in nobody’s best interests, Doctor Bashir.”

He agreed, despite not having known about the dire predictions. If the Union fell apart… Bajor would likely be invaded again. And since they’d declined membership in the Federation… it would be a complete mess. Bajor was only just beginning to recover from the Occupation; a further blow would set them back for another century - at the very least. Not to mention what it would do to any hope of amicable diplomatic relations that Elim was trying to establish with Kira… Reparations would never be made… The relations between Cardassia and Bajor would never recover. 

Well, he knew the situation was bad, but it seemed Ghemor had attempted to spare him the worst of it. Garak too, for that matter. He wondered why.

“Ghemor advocates for self-sufficiency. Cardassia is turning away from its militaristic past and striving for democracy. Surely we should help them with that!”

“I believe you misunderstood me, Doctor. We have no issue with a man like Ghemor, quite the opposite. From what we have heard, he seems like a reasonable man. That is why it is in everyone’s best interests that the Reunion Project succeeds. We will back Project Andak, Bashir.”

Julian gaped.

Nechayev plowed on.

“The Interstellar Agricultural Aid Commission will be sponsoring the initiative, and Mrs. Keiko O’Brien has graciously offered her expertise. She will take the lead on the project, and we will be supplying additional aid as you and Representative Ghemor requested.”

Julian didn’t dare ask about his transfer request. This seemed too good to be true already.

Nechayev’s lips unfurled into an amused grin.

“Congratulations, Doctor Bashir. You are the new Chief Coordinator between the Cardassian and Federation teams for the duration of Project Andak.”

Briefly, he panicked. He was a doctor, not a… whatever he was supposed to do there. Herding cats, probably.

“But, I’m a physician, surely there’s someone more qualified for that position-“

Nechayev’s eyes flashed and she laughed.

“The only reason you have any kind of post to get transferred to is because you invented one for yourself when you sent the proposition! Also, it would seem you are the only member of Starfleet Cardassia would even consider allowing in that position, or so Ghemor insinuated.”

Julian blinked.

“But… why? Surely they would prefer someone more…”

“Partial?” Nechayev offered, steepling her fingers. “Well, apparently they seem satisfied to accept a man who has plans to marry one of their own.”

Julian had touched upon his revised relationship status in the report, but he was quite surprised it was being mentioned in this context. As far as he was concerned, it was his private life. His frown must have been more prominent than he’d thought, because Nechayev huffed. 

“Your choice of spouse would usually be irrelevant, but considering Cardassia has up to very recently been a hostile State, and is yet to establish diplomatic relations with the Federation; makes your choice a deeply political one, whether you intended it as such or not. Concerns were raised over your intent to marry Elim Garak. The man is deeply controversial, and his past is not to be dismissed even if his help in winning the Dominion War proved vital. Regardless, if this is the concession we must make to stabilize Cardassia and pave the way for improved relations in the future; our superiors have decided it is worth the risk.”

Julian sobered at that. He was allowed to go because, in the grand scheme of things, he was considered expendable.

He found he didn’t really care what his superiors thought, as long as it got him what he wanted. 

“Thank you for notifying me, Admiral.” Julian said respectfully, averting his eyes and tilting his head and only belatedly realizing he had used a Cardassian gesture. He looked up, half-afraid he would be met with scorn, but Nechayev didn’t seem to have noticed, or if she had, chose not to remark upon it. 

“We are counting on you to facilitate cooperation between the two sides to the best of your ability. A lot rests on your shoulders now. If you fail, we may not soon get another chance to establish positive relations with Cardassia.”

“I am aware how much is at stake.” Julian nodded, “I will do everything in my power to keep the project running smoothly.”

“Good.” Nechayev offered a wry, half-satisfied smile. “USS Hermes is scheduled to arrive at DS9 in three weeks, carrying supplies and some personnel. You will be informed about the exact time soon but be ready for departure. Cardassians appreciate punctuality.”

Julian smiled. He knew. 

“Good luck, Doctor Bashir.”

“Cardassians don’t believe in luck.” He retorted, feeling bolder now when it was all said and done.

“What do they believe in, then?” Nechayev humored him.

“Strength. Skill.” Julian grinned, overjoyed at the fact he was actually getting more than he had dared hope for.

“Well, I will wish you plenty of both.” She raised her chin superciliously to punctuate her parting statement, “I have a feeling you will need it.”

“Thank you.” He offered a nod of deferral and watched the screen switch off. 

He heaved a huge sigh of relief and slumped.

What a ride!

He was… 

_ I get to go home… I get to stay with Elim. _

His eyes prickled and his lips stretched to accommodate an incredulous smile. To think he was getting everything he’d wanted… Yet this was only the beginning – actually making sure the project succeeded would be the hardest part. Still… His mind filled with images of Tolan’s shed coming alive with the sound of children, little Phela and Rekat running around, lost in some game (to Julian’s amusement and Elim’s fond exasperation). He felt so happy he could burst.

“Julian? Are you all right?” Nerys chimed in and he jumped in surprise.

“Ah! Sorry, you startled me- yes, I’m fine,” Julian halted, trying to get his bearings. “Better than fine, actually!” He giggled, feeling strange and electrified. 

Her expression brightened immediately.

“So, it wasn’t bad news after all? The Admiral was evasive with me. If Sisko were still here…” She sighed. 

It was true. Sisko would have demanded an answer and in all likelihood – received one. He was not a man one was inclined to say no to. And he would have been open with Nerys.

“My transfer was approved!” Julian nearly squealed in delight, flailing his arms in excitement. “I am going to Cardassia in three weeks!”

Nerys gave him a blinding grin, the corners of her eyes wrinkling wonderfully.

“Congratulations, Julian!” She cried out and grabbed him in a fierce, tight hug.

He laughed and returned the gesture, loving the exploding warmth that was radiating from their shared joy. At that moment, he cared nothing for the bleak predictions should he fail, after all… predictions he helped make before turned out to be very wrong. Nobody could account for every eventuality, it was impossible. The future was not very predictable, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t strive for the best possible one they could envision.

In that very moment – Julian felt invincible. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excitement is real!! As always, I love hearing your thoughts, suggestions, and even corrections! 
> 
> Did you like my reasoning? Do you disagree? I'd love to hear it!


	102. Absent Friends and Wedding Bands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian purchases a pair of wedding bands.
> 
> He gets a surprise from some friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fire has been lit under my bum. I want to finish this story in time for something very special that I cannot share yet. I am super anxious and at the edge of my seat!!
> 
> Hope you like this chapter! It features more character growth and I always enjoy that...

Julian was sitting in his quarters, staring at the sturdy bands lying on his palm in absolute awe. What had started as impulsive window-shopping, spelled doom for him as soon as the jewelry display caught his eye. The Bajoran salesman assured him that the rings were one of a kind since they were crafted from meteoric ore and each pair had a different inlay. When he asked whether they had a pair available with an obsidian inlay, the man lit up in delight and took out several pairs. True to word, they were all slightly different. After trying them on, and recalling the measurements of Elim’s ring finger (blushing at the thought), he managed to find a pair that would fit them both reasonably well. 

Now, safely ensconced in the privacy of his quarters, he couldn’t stop caressing them. They glinted like polished silver, even if they were actually made of an iron-nickel alloy and its octahedrite structure was what made them so aesthetically pleasing, curving around the bands in mesmerizing streaks. The polished stripe of obsidian that ran down the middle was cool to the touch. What was it the Bajoran had said? 

_ “Do you know the meaning of the stone you’ve chosen?” _ The man had asked, and when Julian replied in the negative, the salesman launched into an impassioned speech about the stone’s supposed protective properties.

_ “Obsidian is a stone closely linked to the truth – it helps the wearer come to terms with who they truly are by soothing past ills of the spirit, bringing clarity of mind and paving the way for new revelations and growth. It protects the wearer from ill-intent and relieves mental strain. It is the stone of truth-seekers and a matched pair signifies you share the same path.” _

Julian couldn’t escape the image of someone whose job used to be ripping the truth out of people - now needing to embrace a deeper truth that would allow him to finally heal and put the past behind him. The more cynical part of him was deeply skeptical of ascribing mystical properties to rocks, yet couldn’t deny the appeal of the words he was told. It would be silly to buy into something like this, but he quite liked the idea of getting Elim something akin to a protective talisman. He wondered whether the Ancient Hebitians once held similar beliefs? It would be interesting if what started as an inside joke, turned out to be more meaningful to them both.

It was kind of ironic that he had proposed and enjoined by accident, and was now trying to make things right by impulse-buying a pair of wedding bands. 

Would Elim like them?

Julian could perfectly envision the band melding with Elim’s cooler skin tone.

Just the thought of his husband wearing this ring made him warm and tingly all over. 

He caught himself daydreaming again. It happened often, these days. There were mornings when he would wake thinking he was still on Cardassia, reaching for a warm body that wasn’t there. The disappointment would invariably follow, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that each day brought him closer to Elim. Julian sent him letters every day, even if the replies were infrequent and brief. What he wouldn’t give for a single palm press…

Only a week to go, now. His replacement had arrived ten days ago and he had been training them ever since. It was enjoyable work and he savored it all the more, knowing he would soon be forced to practice less. Zeyem assured him he was still her favorite volunteer and that she would love to _exploit him further_, Telat had apparently enjoined to Vonek in his absence and was (according to Akot) – _floating around like an air man_. Julian had been pleasantly surprised to get their missives. The only voices he missed (as the orphanage lacked the necessary infrastructure) were those of his children. The holo image he had taken of them sat proudly on his bedside table and he enjoyed familiarizing himself with their soft ridges and round faces. 

He looked down into his palm and smiled at the rings. With a wistful sigh, he placed them back into their snug little box, and just as he was about to snap the lid shut, the doors to his quarters chimed. 

Wondering whether it might be Nerys asking him out for a drink, he got up and headed to the doors with a smile. When he opened the door, he got quite the surprise. His eyes widened and he exclaimed:

“Miles! Keiko! What are you doing here already?”

He may not have been expecting them but his first impulse was to give them both an enthusiastic hug. Miles laughed as Julian gave him a little squeeze and patted his back. 

“We thought we’d surprise you.” Keiko said warmly, receiving her own hug. 

“I thought you would be coming on the Hermes!” Julian smiled and took them both in. 

“We were supposed to,” Keiko said with a grin and directed an impossibly fond look Miles’ way, “But my husband wanted to surprise you.”

Julian laughed in absolute delight.

“I’d say you’ve succeeded! Come in, sit down, gosh… I haven’t seen you in so long. Where are the kids?”

“We left them with Nerys.” Keiko smiled. 

“Oh! She must have been delighted to see Yoshi again!” Julian said, knowing it to be true. After all, she was his second mother. He was well aware of their bond. She wouldn’t say it, but Julian knew Nerys took their departure hard. Now, when they would be living on Cardassia, she could probably afford to get away more often and actually visit. The thought pleased him. No doubt Elim would also try to involve her in some political plot… It was only to be expected. 

“We thought we’d give her the rest of the evening with them.” Keiko said thoughtfully and Julian was struck anew by how considerate she was. 

“Oh, sit down! I don’t suppose you’d like me to replicate you something?” Julian offered, terribly aware that he had nothing to offer to any potential guests since most of his things were still locked in storage (as he hadn’t needed them). 

“I wouldn’t mind a raktajino.” Miles grumbled, making Keiko laugh.

“He’s been complaining that our replicator can’t get the aroma right!”

“Well, it can’t!” Miles said defensively.

“And when we lived here, you complained it was too sweet.” She reminded him.

“What do you want, woman, I got used to it!” He flushed.

Julian couldn’t resist the temptation to retort.

“Cardassian design grows on you, doesn’t it?”

Keiko chuckled and Miles spluttered until the tips of his ears were red. 

“Preposterous! I don’t miss this Cardie trash can, I can tell you that much!”

Keiko and Julian shared a knowing look. The former Chief could bluster all he wanted, but the truth was – he got attached to people as well as established routines. He was also a hopeless workaholic and Julian suspected his friend missed the constant challenge DS9 used to provide him with. Compared to a cushy post on Earth, a Cardassian station overlooking the wormhole was a full-on adrenaline blast rollercoaster 26/7. 

With an amused grin, Julian materialized the desired raktajino and then asked Keiko what she wanted; ordering the Tarkalean tea she requested. Once his guests were settled on the couch with their cups, Julian sat down in the armchair opposite them and just took a moment to savor their presence. He was really happy to see them. 

Keiko nudged Miles subtly and Julian observed as his best friend sputtered, the rest of their communication non-verbal. Keiko was clearly trying to coax her husband into something the man was visibly reluctant about. Once her eyebrows show up and her face turned serious, there was a hint of panic in Miles’ eyes and then he heaved a massive sigh.

“Ok, ok! I’ll tell him, just… Just don’t look at me that way…”

Julian was deeply amused by the triumphant look she now sported. Miles, however, squirmed in his seat and seemed supremely uncomfortable with whatever topic he was readying himself to broach. Where two months ago Julian would have filled the silence or felt compelled to join in on the fidgeting, he now felt calm. He lifted a leg off the floor and onto the seat, holding it with both arms. It was only fair to give Miles as much time as he needed. After all, he was well aware of the man’s character. Expressing his feelings in words was definitely not the Chief’s forte. 

“I…” Miles kept staring at the cup in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Julian blinked twice.

“What for?” He wondered aloud. 

Miles’ face snapped up and their eyes met. Julian could tell his friend was feeling contrite. 

“For being a bloody arse, that’s why.”

Julian chuckled.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific than that,” He ribbed Miles, “Which instance are you referring to?”

Keiko hid her grin behind her cup and seemed to be enjoying herself. 

“You-!” Miles flustered, then huffed and attempted to collect himself. “Yeah, ok. That’s fair. I deserved that.”

“Mhm.” Keiko hummed in agreement and sipped her tea.

Miles threw her a mildly betrayed look, then faced Julian once more. 

“Bah,” The engineer said in frustration, “You know I’m no good at this!”

Julian silently agreed, yet said nothing, using the silence to prompt his friend to finish. After a chug of raktajino (which seemed to scald his tongue a bit, provoking a short burst of colorful expletives), Miles sighed in resignation and slumped in his seat. 

“I shouldn’t have questioned your choice of… romantic partner.” Here, Miles looked to his wife, who seemed unmoved, potentially even displeased by his choice of words. “Ok, Keiko, fine! Husband. There. Happy now?”

She rolled her eyes in exasperation and stated,

“I’m not the one you are apologizing to, remember?”

Julian watched the fascinating interplay of a long-time couple and wondered whether he and Elim looked even half as comfortable around each other. This kind of domesticity was definitely something to strive towards. Not that Elim would ever apologize if he was coaxed. That infuriating Cardassian did things on his own terms. 

Miles sighed.

“Listen, I know if somebody had questioned my decision to marry Keiko, I’d have been bloody furious with them and probably told them exactly where they could stick it-“ He must have realized he was getting off-topic since he coughed and continued in a more composed manner. “My point is, you have every right to choose who to marry, and I should have respected that. I just… I wasn’t sure he was the best person for you, is all. I’ve talked to Keiko a lot about it and she was right. I should have been more supportive and voiced my concerns differently.”

“I have no intention of defending my choice, Miles.” Julian said seriously. “I love him and he is good to me. I couldn’t give less of a damn who approves or disapproves. It just hurt because you are my best friend and your opinion matters to me. I don’t expect you to change your opinion overnight but I have to admit I was both disappointed and hurt. Having some faith in me would have been nice.”

“You’re right.” Miles admitted, his face falling. “You are a fully grown man capable of making your own decisions. Keiko pointed out to me that I was treating you like a child and… She’s right. You are much younger than me and I guess I still see the boy I first met on DS9, instead of the man you are now.”

That was quite the admission, coming from Miles. 

“I was not a very good best friend, huh?” 

Julian offered him a faint smile. He knew the guilt that accompanied that particular grievance. 

“Not in that particular instance, no.”

Miles nodded, looking pained. Julian disliked watching people in pain or discomfort, but he wanted to allow Miles to express himself. No matter how long it took. 

“I wanted to… apologize. And make it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

Julian was pleasantly surprised by this kind of initiative and he was sure it showed on his face. 

“I, uh… I thought I might throw you a bachelor party. You know… before you tie the knot and all.”

Julian smiled despite himself and his gaze drifted to the table where the box with the rings rested. 

“I’m afraid you’re a bit late on that count… Well, half-late, technically.” Julian amended.

Miles stared at him in incomprehension and then Keiko made an excited noise and leaned forward. Julian grinned and let them both stew for a bit.

“Julian?” Miles inquired, “Are you suggesting- You’re not… Are you??” 

Keiko was currently giving Miles an A grade death glare. Julian snorted and burst into raucous laughter. 

“The look on your face, Miles!” Julian sniggered, “I think your face is changing color like an old litmus test!”

Keiko giggled; trying to contain her mirth at the sight of her husband’s kicked expression.

“Aww, Miles. It’s the thought that counts!” She soothed, running her palm down his arm affectionately.

“We have entered a civil partnership. Cardassia doesn’t have legal marriage for people of the same sex. A partnership is similar in legal terms, so it’s currently the best we can have. There is a separate ceremony for those who wish for a more… spiritual union.”

“Ooh!” Keiko exclaimed.

“So… Legally, we’re not enjoined, not technically. In every other sense, though… We are.” Julian allowed his pleasure at that fact to spill forth. 

Miles’ eyes went wide. Clearly taken aback, he huffed and blurted out,

“You work fast, don’t you?”

Keiko elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ow! What have I said now?”

She gave him a significant look and he wilted visibly.

“Fine, yeah. Supportive.”

“If it makes you feel better, I do plan on marrying him again, this time the human way. So… If you want to throw me a bachelor party, I wouldn’t mind.”

Visibly perking up at that, the Chief straightened in his seat. 

“No strippers or dabo girls, though!” Julian lifted his index in emphasis, “And no repeats of Worf’s bachelor party either!”

The retort had the intended effect as it made Miles snort. 

“I wasn’t going to do either, for your information.I thought I’d assemble the gang to hang out a bit, grab a few drinks, throw some darts…”

Julian wondered how that made it any different from what they usually did, yet found he didn’t mind it. It appealed way more than some crazy scheme Jadzia would have pulled if-

Julian’s brow furrowed in sadness. Jadzia would have been happy for him if he’d realized what he wanted earlier. That bachelor party would have been _wild_. He could already see Morn running around in a pink thong, two dabo girls giggling and chasing him with a feather duster, while Jadzia drank ten shots in a row, putting men twice her size under the table. Julian realized he missed her terribly. 

He knew the odds of Ezri joining the party were slim to none. Naturally, he’d never force her to come; it would be much too cruel. Yet, the thought of being cut off from Jadzia, one of the closest friends he ever had, hurt. 

It all felt like a huge waste. Jadzia didn’t deserve to die. 

Yet, if she hadn’t…

Would he have ever grown enough to recognize his own feelings?

To decipher Elim’s earnest plea and see it for what it was?

_ “I’m an unfinished man, Doctor…” _

How could he have missed it? It was so obvious in retrospect…

“Julian, what’s wrong?” Keiko asked softly and Julian realized his mind had drifted away before he could answer Miles.

“I just remembered what kind of crazy party Jadzia would have organized for me…” Unbidden, tears filled his eyes. “It would have been excess of the highest order!” He was smiling and crying all at once. 

“Oh yes, there would have been jugglers, fire-eaters, and for all I know, a dancing bear as well!” Miles chuckled, lost in his own memories of the unforgettable Trill.

Keiko scooted closer to her husband and wrapped her arm around him. Julian found the gesture and the intimacy it implied utterly wonderful. If Elim were here, he would be burrowing into his arms… His gaze drifted to the rings again.

“So… is that a yes for the party?” Miles asked tentatively and Julian looked at him warmly, wiping his cheeks. 

“Yes, Miles. I’d be delighted.”

He really meant it, too. 

Absent friends or no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time - a bachelor party on DS9!
> 
> I still don't have a beta, so I'm dreadfully sorry if it shows! XD
> 
> Did you like Miles' apology??
> 
> How about those sexy rings, huh? They are totally a thing, too. And they look fabulous. Many thanks to the wonderful DHW who was on standby as I was having a meltdown choosing rings for these two. Meteorite rings were one of the things they suggested and when I saw them, I couldn't resist!


	103. The Bachelor Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian celebrates with his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhh, so close to the ending now!!! I only have the epilogue to write! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this final stretch of the story!

“Thank you so much for your help, Keiko. If I chose the fabrics on my own, Garak would have gotten an aneurysm.” Julian chuckled, packing the bolts into a crate. 

“Don’t mention it, Julian. It was my pleasure.” Her pretty eyes wrinkled at the corners and she caressed her daughter’s hair.

“Thank you too, Molly.” Julian said affectionately, “I’m sure Phela will like what you chose for her.”

“You’re welcome!” The girl smiled, taking her mother’s hand. 

“We’re running a bit late, Julian.” Keiko reminded him. “I know that being late to your own party is fashionable, but I think we should spare poor Miles. He’s suffered enough.”

“Right.” Julian nodded, snapping the lid on the container shut. 

“You might want to wear something nice.” She said off-handedly.

Julian shrugged.

“All my stuff is in storage, I don’t really care what I wear. Aren’t civvies enough?” He asked, showing off his brown trousers and beige shirt with the asymmetrical collar. Elim told him this shirt was positively scandalous (which only made it rise in Julian’s estimation). 

Keiko seemed to ponder that for a second and shrugged. 

“Miles will survive.” Julian waved it off. 

He left the crate with the fabrics in the cargo bay and followed Keiko and Molly out. He was looking forward to a relaxed night of drinks with his closest friends. He still had a plan to order kanar and drink it right under Quark’s nose. He wanted to see the Ferengi’s shocked face. 

They walked to Quark’s Bar in companionable silence. Only two days left until Hermes arrived. It made Julian both anxious and relaxed at the same time. He really, really wanted Garak to like the rings. Well, his ring specifically since he would be wearing it until they actually got married. Julian didn’t see the point in getting an engagement ring. They were already enjoined, after all. 

When they entered, Julian couldn’t see Miles anywhere. He looked for Nerys, but she was also nowhere to be seen.

“I guess we’re not late after all.” He chuckled and walked up to the bar. 

“Bashir!” Quark said in a supremely satisfied manner, using his oily customer smile, “What will it be? By the way…” He leaned in over the bar, going for a conspiratorial tone, “Your holo-image? It’s earning me a small fortune!”

Julian smirked. 

“Does that mean I get a discount on any drinks I have here from now on?”

Quark looked at him like he’d just blasphemed against his mother. Or brought into question the existence of the Divine Treasury.

“Now, now, Doctor… let’s not get hasty… One drink of your choice at 20% discount! Valid for today only!” The Ferengi emphasized, as if Julian didn’t know better.

“50%.” Julian said coolly.

“25!” Quark haggled, clearly loath to part with any of his potential profits. 

“40% discount or I walk out of here.” Julian said seriously, hoping Quark couldn’t see through the thick layer of bullshit.

“You wouldn’t walk away from your own bachelor party, would you?” Quark said shrewdly. 

Julian snorted. 

“You do realize I could choose not to drink at all and in the case I don’t, you don’t make any profit whatsoever.”

Quark halted at that, his beady eyes going wide. He had apparently not thought of that. Julian grinned and turned to leave, when Quark’s shrill voice announced –

“Fine! 40% discount, since I’m feeling generous today!”

Julian turned on his heel and flashed Quark a dazzling smile.

“In that case… A glass of your best kanar. And if you water it down, I’ll sic Garak on you.” Julian warned him, meaning every word. Well, mostly. Nothing murderous. Maybe a nice prank with a shipment. Switching out a crate of his self-sealing stem bolts with plush tribbles, just to give him a scare.

“Ka-kanar? Hew-mons hate that stuff!”

“Be happy I didn’t order anything more expensive. Besides… With Garak gone, does anybody even order kanar from you?” Julian pointed out, trying to sound innocent.

Keiko chuckled next to him.

“I see Garak’s rubbing off on you…”

Unable to moderate his response, Julian flushed. He doubted present company wanted to know where his mind went. They were probably smart enough to guess. 

Two more days, he reminded himself. 

It was very difficult to contain his excitement. So difficult, in fact, that he’d pretty much given up on the effort altogether. He missed his husband something fierce. Nerys had called him out on it just yesterday, telling him that his pining was getting ridiculous. He agreed. Everything about Elim made him absolutely ridiculous. 

“One kanar… For a discerning customer.” Quark announced, sliding a glass his way.

Julian saw the pale blue liquid in his glass and felt a little twinge. He remembered an utterly sloshed Garak clinging to a bottle of kanar, and his ridiculous attempts at subterfuge in front of the spy. Thinking back… Was there ever a time when the man didn’t utterly enthrall him? 

If there was, Julian couldn’t remember it. 

He fingered the glass and took a sip. “This is watered-down, Quark.” He stated, looking at the bartender crossly. The Ferengi raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

“Hey, it’s the least diluted one I have!” 

Julian huffed and shook his head. It would have to do. Even if it did take away from the flavor.

“Since when do you even like kanar?” Quark mumbled, muttering something about being robbed and losing profits due to his soft heart.

“Since I discovered a taste for Cardassian culture.” Julian deadpanned, not even embarrassed to say it aloud. 

“I see.” Quark conceded. 

“Julian,” Keiko placed a hand gently on his forearm, “Why don’t we head upstairs, I think Miles might be there. Take your drink with you?”

“Oh, ok!” He peeled himself off the counter and took his glass along, skipping after Keiko and Molly with a bounce in his step. Briefly, he wondered why they were climbing the stairs since the dartboard was on the lower level. Perhaps Miles wanted them to get deep into their cups before attempting to play. It could be fun, especially if Nerys and Keiko joined in. Heck, even Molly. Perhaps he could carry her on his shoulders and let her throw darts!

Deeply entertained by the idea, he didn’t even see where Keiko was leading him. Looking up, he was surprised to see they were on their way to the holosuites. 

“Uh, did Miles book a suite for us? He didn’t have to, I mean… I don’t want a fuss…”

“Nonsense, Julian. He wanted to surprise you, is that so wrong?”

“No, of course not.” Julian sighed. “I just hope he didn’t pick the Alamo!”

Keiko grinned and took him to the right door. Julian wondered what Miles could possibly be planning and then Keiko instructed him to close his eyes. He gave her a look but complied, covering his eyes with his hands obediently and allowing her to direct him. Molly giggled. 

If Miles had made something ridiculously elaborate, he would-

Gentle chatter filled his ears, together with the sounds of clinking glasses and drinks being poured. This sounded a lot like-

“Ok, you can look now!” Keiko said brightly and he removed his hands. All at once, he realized where he was - at Vegas, in the lounge of-

“Welcome back, pally!” 

Julian smiled from ear to ear and rushed forward into the dazzling interior of the familiar Vegas venue, filled with its usual tables and crowd.

“Vic! It’s so good to see you!” He took the hologram by the shoulders, grinning all the while.

“You too, friend.” The singer smiled at him with genuine warmth. 

“Finally, Julian!” Miles walked up to him, dressed to the nines. “I was beginning to think you got cold feet!”

Julian grinned. It was impossible to have cold feet on Cardassia. 

“You look incredible, Miles! That suit’s very nice!” Julian complimented the cut. 

Miles blustered for a second, and then made an agreeable noise.

“Where’s your suit?” Miles asked him and only now did Julian realize why Keiko had suggested he change. 

“Sorry, Miles.” He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “All my stuff is in storage, I haven’t bothered unpacking it since I knew I’d be moving to Cardassia soon…”

“It doesn’t matter, does it honey?” Keiko said soothingly, ever the voice of reason. 

Miles seemed to ponder this for a moment and then acquiesced. 

“No, suppose not.”

“I just had a quiet evening in mind, to be honest. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me…” Julian found himself cut off by a strong huff from the indomitable Irishman. 

“Nonsense, Julian! I’m your best mate.” He caught himself and looked uncertain for a moment, “Aren’t I?”

Julian exhaled and looked his best friend over, gaze brimming with fondness. 

“Of course you are, Miles.”

He watched the Chief straighten and puff out his chest a bit at that, almost like the affirmation made him absurdly proud for some reason. Julian knew this was another tendril of light strengthened. 

“Sit down, grab a- wait, what is that?”

“It’s kanar.” Julian said mischievously and batted his eyelashes at Miles with all the innocence he could muster. “Want a sip?”

Miles seemed incapable of tempering his horrified expression which made Julian dissolve into peals of laughter. 

“This one isn’t so good, admittedly… But it’s a taste of home.”

Julian hadn’t consciously been trying to say that, it just slipped out. Now when it was out, he felt his face and his insides warm and light up like a string of Christmas lights. 

“I wouldn’t mind a sip.” Vic chimed in, an adventurous gleam in his eyes. 

“You’ll regret it…” Miles muttered and got a pointed look from his wife for his troubles. 

“What? Vegas doesn’t stock alien drinks! Can you blame a cat for being curious?” Vic made a showman gesture, spreading his arms.

“By all means,” Julian happily handed the glass of pale blue liquid to Vic. The hologram took a careful sip and Julian spotted a minute choke and the rest of Vic’s reaction was a polite mask to hide what he truly thought about it. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the taste didn’t agree with him. Julian chuckled and took the glass back. 

“It has a very… unique flavor.” Vic said diplomatically and Julian grinned, squeezing the singer’s shoulder in a supportive gesture. 

“It’s an acquired taste.” Julian conceded, grateful that Vic’s tactfulness compelled him to even make the effort to be kind about it. 

“Must be quite something, this fella you’ve chosen.” Vic stated.

“Garak?” Julian’s smile was irrepressible. “Oh yes. You have no idea.”

“I’ve seen that look before…” Vic stated, looking at him shrewdly. 

“On me?”

“No, on all the fellas that are head over heels. Take your friend, Mr. O’Brien – the way he looks at his missus. That’s love.”

Keiko was currently snuggling up to Miles and the Irishman kissed his wife’s forehead. Julian felt wistful. His husband should be here, sharing this joy. 

“Got it bad, I see.” Vic chuckled. “Oh, here come the guests! Don’t let me keep you, I’ll be on the stage.”

Julian swiveled around, wondering what guests they could possibly be expecting when Nerys stepped in; clad in the same red and cream gown she wore for the casino heist. She was flanked by the Siskos.

“Kasidy! Jake!” Julian put down his glass on the bar and rushed to them. “I had no idea you’d be coming! I thought you were on Bajor! Aren’t you due very soon?” His gaze fell to Kasidy’s swollen stomach. 

“You just had to point it out, didn’t you?” Kasidy admonished him and caressed her bump protectively. Nerys was snickering left of her, and Jake was clearly on stand-by, looking out for his step-mother (of the distinctly non-wicked variety).

“Sorry,” Julian muttered, “It’s my profession speaking.”

“I was just joking, Julian.” Kasidy reassured him. “I am unused to having my mobility impaired. I’m starting to think Benjamin is staying away on purpose, so he can avoid my wrath!” She laughed and Jake grinned.

“I guess I’m a stand-in for all the abuse dad’s due, huh?”

Kasidy pursed her lips and pinched Jake’s cheek in a way Julian knew made every child recoil in horror. Regardless, Jake seemed to take it in good humor. Gosh, the boy was so tall now, towering over them all. He still remembered the gangly little figure hanging around the upper level of the Promenade, making mischief with Nog.

If O’Brien could start seeing Julian as a grown man, perhaps it was time for Julian to acknowledge that Jake was now a young man.

“So, you and Garak, huh?” Jake commented, “If Nerys hadn’t assured me it was true, I wouldn’t have come. I’d think it was all an elaborate prank – a good one, too.”

Julian smiled in a decidedly besotted manner. 

“Yes, Garak and I.”

That seemed all he needed to say, since all three people standing before him bore knowing looks. Even Jake, to an extent. Perhaps it was the writer in him. If Jake ever heard even a fraction of the real story of how he and Elim ended up together, he would probably beg for the right to write it. Admittedly, it made for quite the story. Even if Julian would prefer to keep it to himself.

“Why don’t we go sit down?” Julian suggested. “By the way, Nerys, you look wonderful. This dress is a total knockout.”

Nerys grinned at him and followed along to the first unoccupied table where Miles and Keiko were waiting for them. 

“By the way… Where’s Yoshi?” Julian asked Nerys, knowing she usually babysat him when the O’Briens were indisposed. 

“Ensign Vilix’pran has him for the evening.” Nerys said softly, “To return the favor for all the times Jake babysat his little ones.”

“They are adorable; you should see their fluffy wings!” Jake cooed, obviously taken with them. Julian had a feeling that Jake would continue the Sisko tradition of impeccable fatherhood. 

“Oh… I wish I had known all of you would be here… I would have brought the holos of the kids!”

“I met them,” Nerys seemed to melt, “They are wonderful! The boy is so bashful… How old is he, Julian?”

“Rekat is ten.” Julian said proudly. “And little Phela is five.”

“He seems a bit small for his age…” Nerys said with genuine concern.

“I doubt he’s been fed properly. Especially since the Fire. The orphans aren’t high on anyone’s priority list, sadly.”

“I wouldn’t mind going to your quarters to fetch the holos, Julian.” Keiko offered kindly.

“Ohh, would you? You’re an angel!” Julian thanked her earnestly.

“I’ll be right back.” She promised, squeezed Miles’ hand and got up. The conversation turned back to the kids as Vic’s band began to play. 

“Adopting kids is very kind. I wish more people did.” Kasidy said, looking wistful. “There are still many orphans on Bajor… Cardassian as well as mixed.”

“Dukat must have wanted us to see them as an insult and a burden.” Nerys fumed. “Instead, I just feel sorry for them.”

“This way, they at least escaped the destruction of Cardassia Prime. Ironically, they are probably safer on Bajor than they would be on Cardassia.” Julian observed.

Such a terrible silver lining…

“Small mercies…” Nerys sighed. She seemed to have a lot on her mind. Julian reached for his glass and realized he’d left it on the bar.

“Hold that thought, l left my kanar behind, let me go grab it real quick -“ He said to his companions and headed for the bar, dodging the holographic patrons. Where before he would have felt underdressed for this setting, now it didn’t bother him. The holographic characters wouldn’t remark on his looks and tonight was reserved for his friends. It didn’t even feel like a bachelor party, at least not yet. To be fair, he hoped it would stay this way – cozy and comfortable. 

He found his glass exactly where he left it and took a sip. 

It burned, yet didn’t warm him as much as Alon’s fancy kanar did. Huh… Was that dinner at Ghemor’s the Cardassian version of a bachelor party? Barefoot and sitting on the ground, sipping water from the same bowl as his soon-to-be enjoined… His Chosen.

His husband.

Julian felt himself growing misty-eyed at the thought of Elim. His fingers delved into the pocket of his trousers, taking out the box with the rings. He had taken to carrying them with him everywhere he went, as he didn’t feel right leaving them languishing in his quarters. He cracked the lid open and let out a small sigh.

“Ohh, are those meteorite rings?? Fancy stuff!” An exuberant voice exclaimed and he was startled out of his thoughts by a friendly Ferengi face.

“Nog!” Julian grinned. “How come you’re here?”

The Ensign gave him a brief hug and a firm pat on the shoulder, smiling his crooked, pointy-toothed smile. 

“Chief O’Brien invited me! I couldn’t make the same transport as they did, so I took one a few days later. I wouldn’t miss a chance to see you and old Vic again! Is Jake here?”

“Oh yes,” Julian pointed through the crowd, “He’s right there, with Kasidy, Nerys, Miles and Molly. Keiko went to my quarters to fetch something and she’ll be right back.”

“Are Leeta and my dad here yet?” Nog looked around and Julian just gaped for a moment.

“W-what?”

Nog turned to him with a look of dawning comprehension.

“Uh… oops? I guess the grub’s out of the pan, huh? I- I better go say hello to Jake and to Missus Sisko!”

Julian stared after the young man in disbelief. What an expedient getaway that was. He shook his head in bemusement and looked in the direction of the entrance, keeping an eye for any new arrivals. Who else had Miles invited? No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, he heard the familiar stuttering tones that were Rom’s trademark at this point. The new Grand Nagus came into view, hand in hand with a resplendent Leeta. 

“Bu-but, what if he doesn’t like it?”

“Oh, sweetie…” Leeta soothed her nervous spouse, “He will love it, I’m sure of it!”

Julian snapped the lid of the ring box shut and slipped it back into his pocket, grabbed his kanar and stepped forward to intercept them.

“Welcome – Rom, Leeta.” He said amiably and watched Rom wheeze and clutch at his chest in fright.

“Y-you scared me!” The Ferengi muttered, only to be mollified by his wife’s gentle kiss to the cheek.

“It’s so good to see you, Julian!” Leeta spoke with genuine affection. Out of all his exes, she was probably the only one whose friendship he could still claim. He was quite grateful for it. 

“You too, Leeta! I see marriage agrees with you both.” He chuckled, taking in Rom’s flustered floundering and Leeta’s quiet happiness. 

“Come, let’s join the others.” Julian suggested and led the way. “I really didn’t expect you here!”

“T-the Ch-chief told us a-about it.” Rom stuttered and Leeta finished the thought for him, “We simply had to come and offer congratulations!”

Julian wondered just how many tendrils he had. Perhaps they were already stronger than he could imagine. 

“Dad!” Nog cried out enthusiastically and rushed to embrace his father. 

It seemed this night would be one big, happy reunion. Julian settled into a chair next to Miles and watched Leeta and Rom arrange themselves to his left. He took a moment to observe the wonderful people sharing his table. Jake was engaged in conversation with Nerys, Kasidy was discussing something engineering-related with Miles, and Rom and Nog were busy catching up. It was so wonderful he wished he could share it with his Cardassian family as well. Telat and Akot would have fit right in. The thought of his chosen sister flushing hopelessly at the sight of Nerys in this dress made him chuckle into his kanar. 

“Share the joke?” Leeta leaned in with a conspiratorial little smile.

“Did you know Cardassians choose their own family if their own is gone or unsuitable?”

Leeta’s eyes glistened with interest.

“Really? They are notoriously secretive about their social practices…”

“Really.” Julian confirmed, “I have a chosen sister now. She’s a young doctor I worked alongside for two months at the Research Centre in Coranum. When Nerys dropped by and unknowingly picked a fight with Akot, the poor girl was left quite smitten. If she saw a holo of Nerys in this dress… I think her ridges would flush so fast it would be noticeable even to people that have no idea what it means.”

“Well, why don’t you take a holo, then? As a little treat to your new sister?” Leeta winked and Julian was impressed by her devilish suggestion. 

“Are you proposing I… play matchmaker?” He whispered, slightly scandalized.

Leeta giggled. 

“Why not? It’s not like Nerys couldn’t use some company… Perhaps it’s time she pick someone closer to her age…”

Julian considered it. It’s not like he would force them… Just a nice holo swap… If he got Akot to pose for a nice picture, he could pass it along to Nerys along with the holos of the kids… The rest would be up to them. 

“I’m back with the holos!” Keiko appeared triumphantly, bearing the picture frame.

“Ooh! Let me see!” Kasidy extended her arm enthusiastically and Keiko looked to Julian who nodded his assent. Keiko immediately handed it over and Jake and Kasidy looked at the holo-frame, flicking through the images.

“Look at them! So precious!” Kasidy crooned, “The boy looks so cross! And the girl seems so shy!”

“Don’t let their angelic faces fool you, Rekat is a softie inside and Phela is the cunning one.” Julian warned them, hiding his grin behind his glass of kanar. 

“Cute kids.” A voice drawled and he realized Quark had managed to sneak up on them. “Here’s the holo-recorder, Chief.” 

“Ah! Great! Thanks, Quark.” Said Miles and took the recorder. 

“Now, what will it be? O’Brien’s paying, so… Go wild!” Quark winked and his smile was one of well calculated greed. 

Julian took in the atmosphere, the cheery show tunes in the background, his assembled friends clamoring to get their orders in, laughter and many a crinkled eye in the small crowd. He let it all wash over him. Here were people he spent years with, a family he’d made on the DS9. It may have taken him years to be accepted as part of their community, but it seemed he’d managed it. Some of them had traveled for weeks to see him and give him a proper send-off. They were all busy with their own lives, yet the news of his impending nuptials was enough to get them all to come. 

“Want a refill, Doctor?” Quark asked him and Julian accepted. “I really thought you had something good going on with Dax, but you blew it!” The smug grin was so typical of the sly bar owner.

“I wasn’t right for her.” Julian admitted. “I never wished to hurt her… I just hope she forgives me one day.”

“I mean… I would understand if you found a knockout Cardassian woman… But Garak?” Quark tsked. “Ah well! There’s no accounting for taste!”

Julian rolled his eyes. 

“Should I tell my husband you find him ugly?” Julian asked mildly.

“You can add I think he’s old as a bonus!” Quark chuckled and walked away to bring their orders.

“If he saw him in person, he’d be groveling… incomprehensible.” 

“Aw, you know what Quark’s like!” Jake said, “His bark is way worse than his bite. Though, to be honest… I wouldn’t like to be bitten… Those needle-like teeth…” He shuddered and everyone at the table laughed. 

Drinks were passed and consumed to much fun. Molly got to have a mocktail, which made her happy, as she was included with the adults. Keiko would occasionally get up and snap holos of everyone, and Julian caught himself laughing at pretty much anything. Rom was quite a boisterous drunk and much to Julian’s surprise, the drink seemed to cure him of his stutter. At some point, he even joined Vic on the stage and sang with him. Julian wasn’t the only one applauding and cheering.

“You never told me he could sing!” Kasidy said to Leeta, who preened in her seat.

“It’s a hidden talent!”

“Yeah… Hidden behind a wall of snail-juice martinis…” Quark muttered snidely, only to be punched in the shoulder by Miles.

“Shut up, Quark, some of us are enjoying the music!” The Irishman grumbled, downing his whisky. 

At this point in the proceedings, Julian was feeling particularly bold, so he asked Nerys for a dance. This resulted in a huge free-for-all, where they all took turns with each other and Julian laughed his head off when he got to dance with Miles, who was so deep into his cups that he was a real spectacle. At some point, Keiko disappeared once more, taking Molly to bed and the holo-recorder was passed to Leeta, who proceeded to gleefully orchestrate silly images just for the fun of it. She made Nog ride on Jake’s shoulders and balance a half-full martini glass on his head. The sight made Kasidy spit out her juice and snort uncontrollably. Nerys was clutching her stomach and crying from laughter and Julian was leaning against her, just as affected. Miles was banging his palm against the table and grinning like a loon. 

And when Vic started singing “The Best is Yet to Come” Julian felt the atmosphere change. Everyone drifted back into their seats and quieted down. Kasidy was leaning into Jake, Leeta onto Rom, Miles was holding Keiko. Julian and Nerys exchanged a look and he was aware that everyone at the table could feel what was missing. 

Benjamin.

Dax .

Both Jadzia and Ezri.

They hadn’t gotten together like this since before the war. 

The scars stretched across the years.

“To Lisa.” Julian murmured solemnly.

Miles raised his glass in understanding and drank.

Nerys seemed to catch on, so she uttered a clipped-

“To Jadzia.”

Everybody drank this time.

“For people who will come back to us one day.” Julian smiled weakly.

“To Ben, I guess.” Kassidy said, “Wherever… whenever he is right now.”

Julian wished to invoke Ezri’s name, yet wasn’t sure it was appropriate. Even this fact alone saddened him.

“To young Ezri Dax!” Quark cried out and drained his drink. “What?”

The moment was enough to break the tension.

“How about… To family? The found kind, the one we get to choose?” Leeta suggested and Julian had to fight tears. 

“Yes…” he murmured. “To family.”

“To family!” Everyone echoed the sentiment, raising their glasses and clinking them together.

He watched the people he loved interacting seamlessly and smiled.

His family was big, colorful and utterly, utterly wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like this penultimate chapter??? The next one is the big finish, and then a short epilogue to wrap it up...
> 
> Is anyone else excited, or is it just me???


	104. Staying in the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and the O'Briens arrive on Cardassia aboard the USS Hermes. 
> 
> Julian reunites with his family.
> 
> We get a very happy ending indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that this fic had no beta and that any mistakes, blunders, or inconsistencies are just the fault of a scatterbrained author. 
> 
> This is the last chapter but it will be followed by an epilogue!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> I have composed the lightest piece yet, to finish this story with. It has elements of the main theme and Julian's yearning theme, wrapping up in one very happy ending!
> 
> [Staying in the Light](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/622911524817797120/the-last-song-on-under-the-blind-moon-ost-it)

Julian groaned, stretching out his long limbs. He'd spent the past three hours discussing the Andak Project with Keiko and her colleagues. It was a particularly fascinating conversation, covering their plans for purging the soil of contamination using both phytoextraction and phytostabilization. Keiko was particularly animated when discussing the specific plants they would be using to draw the heavy metals from Cardassia's soil. 

“Cadmium is going to be the biggest issue, and from what I’ve seen so far, we’d like to avoid introducing new species into their already damaged biosphere. We’ve been looking into a Cardassian substitute for Pennycress, and I think we may have found one, look –“ 

Julian walked across the Hermes’ meeting room and stared out the viewport. The conversation had gotten a shade too specialized for him to follow competently and he left the team of scientists to hash out the finer points of phytoremediation. 

“As for the arsenic, we have found a suitable fern in their databases-“

Julian palmed the box in his pocket. 

In less than an hour, they would arrive on Cardassia. Elim had promised to greet them and Julian was vibrating with anticipation. 

“What will we use to test the soil after the cadmium’s been extracted?” One of the scientists asked and Julian heard Keiko’s self-assured reply, “Meya Lilies. They cannot grow in cadmium-contaminated soil.”

Julian had seen the image of the flower in question. It was a beautiful white lily with a crimson stripe running down the middle of its petals. They were an endangered species on Cardassia Prime and grew only in places that could accommodate their high water requirement. With the climate alterations they had planned, they could significantly expand the habitat for the Meya Lily, even if planting them wasn’t the ultimate goal of the greening project. 

Julian tuned the conversation out completely. He was too busy imagining Elim’s reaction when they met again. He wasn’t sure he could force himself to get through the proposal first, as the urge to press palms and kiss his husband was overwhelming. The closer to Cardassia they got, the stronger the pull was. What a strange road he had taken. One letter from Garak, well – a book really, and his life had changed completely. He’d admitted his deepest fears and wasn’t eviscerated or condemned for having them; instead, Elim had soothed him and helped him address them, one by one. He felt a bit like one of the endangered plants on Cardassia. All his life, his environment had been hostile to his very being, and blame for his eccentricities had been placed solely on his shoulders, as if it was his responsibility to evolve faster to adapt to the terrible conditions instead of someone recognizing that the soil he was placed in was unsuitable, the precipitation insufficient, and the neighboring plants noxious to his delicate roots. 

How fitting that it was a Gardener who finally provided him with everything he needed to grow.

Such kind hands…

“Julian?” Keiko appeared next to him and he startled, flinching.

“Sorry, I just wanted to tell you the meeting’s over and that everyone’s gone to their quarters to pack.”

“No, no… It’s fine. I wasn’t really present.” He admitted softly.

“Are you worrying about the proposal?” Keiko inquired tactfully, “Because you shouldn’t.”

“I don’t fear rejection,” Julian waved his hand dismissively, “I just think it might be a bit unfair to put him on the spot like that, you know… Like one of those news stories where a man proposes to his girlfriend in front of a huge crowd and it puts so much pressure on her to say yes? I just… I don’t want it to be a public spectacle.”

“Understandable.” Keiko spoke gently.

“And yet… I don’t want to hide it either. I’m tired of having to hide my feelings to make people around me more comfortable. It’s been a habit for so long that I didn’t even realize it was a form of self-sabotage.”

Keiko approached him silently and wrapped an arm around him in a supportive gesture. 

“But then I remember that we might be targeted because of xenophobic sentiments and I wonder whether it’s prudent to paint such a big target on our backs…”

“Living in fear isn’t really living, Julian.” Keiko murmured.

He sighed. He would be fine and Garak too for the most part, but they had children now… It wasn’t as easy anymore. Just because he was on cloud nine at the moment, didn’t mean he shouldn’t be realistic. Cardassia was still a dangerous place.

“What do you want to do, Julian?” Keiko asked, and Julian considered her question for a moment.

He yearned for peace. 

The answer came easily.

“I want to stay in the light.”

Keiko smiled softly and gave him a gentle pat on the back. He put his hand in his pocket and rubbed the ring box with his thumb. 

It was time to grab his luggage.

***

“Jesus, why is it so sweltering here?” Miles groused as they were disembarking.

“You knew what the conditions were, Miles.” Keiko admonished him gently and Julian just smirked. It was pretty hot and humid, but he’d lived here for two months and he had gotten used to it. Well, as much as it was humanly possible. The heat _was_ quite oppressive. The other team members were already panting and Keiko was beginning to perspire. 

“Welcome to Cardassia!” Julian chuckled. “It only gets worse, haha!”

“And here I was, thinking you had grown to appreciate all things Cardassian…”

“Elim!” Julian cried out and ran straight towards his husband, very nearly tackling him in his exuberance. Elim grunted yet submitted to Julian’s enthusiastic greeting, holding him gently.

“I missed you so much,” Julian muttered into Elim’s shoulder, “You have no idea…”

Elim cupped his face tenderly and murmured, “I might have an inkling…”

Julian smiled shyly. 

“The tiniest one?”

His only response was a softening in his husband’s blue eyes. Once again, Julian fell into the pull of his twin star. 

His orbit… It was finally stable, wasn’t it?

He laughed through a happy sob and held Elim tighter.

“I have a question for you…” He muttered into the fabric of Elim’s tunic.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I didn’t catch that, my dear.”

Julian looked over Elim shoulder and noticed Ghemor was there, standing calmly, looking like he was there in an official capacity. The image was quite altered when Julian took note of two smaller figures waiting there patiently.

“Rekat! Phela!” Julian exclaimed happily, directing a mock-stern look Elim’s way. “You didn’t tell me you would bring the little ones!”

Elim grinned wryly. 

“I wanted to surprise you.”

Julian’s smile was absolutely radiant as he leaned in and pressed a very firm and very unambiguous kiss to Elim’s lips. The look of bafflement and surprise he got in return for his affections was in equal measure endearing and infuriating. They were enjoined. If anyone didn’t like it, they could go suck on a lemon. 

“Children…” Garak called out, “Come greet your Father.”

Julian knelt to be closer to their eye level and extended both of his palms. If he was right, this was the appropriate gesture.

“Father.” Rekat acknowledged cautiously and pressed his left palm to Julian’s left, and Phela crossed her small arm under her brother’s to press her right palm against Julian’s right hand. 

“Welcome back…Daddy.” She said shyly.

“I missed you, son… Daughter.” He acknowledged them in turn and kept his palms up for a long time. 

They were his family and he wanted to emphasize the depth of his affection for them. When Rekat began to fidget, Julian met his gaze and smiled softly, dropping his hands slowly. Phela surprised him by clinging to him, burrowing into his embrace. He held her tenderly and placed a soft kiss to her little gray forehead. 

“You won’t go away again?” She asked him, looking up at him with her big doe eyes and he felt overcome.

“No, Phela. I’m not going away again. I promise.”

“Making promises you cannot keep is most unwise, my dear.” Garak chided him good-naturedly.

“I do intend to keep this one.” Julian said fiercely and Elim’s only response was a wide, self satisfied smile. Julian felt like he just passed some unannounced test. 

_ Elim _ _ , you sneaky devil… _

“Well… As long as I’m already on one knee…” Julian trailed off, mischief thick in his voice as he fished out the ring from his pocket.

“I am terribly sorry for the public spectacle, but I want to make extra sure that everybody knows how proud I am of you, so… Elim Garak, will you make me the happiest man in the galaxy and marry me? Again?”

The look of pure shock on Elim’s face was so worth it, even if it was gone before most people would have even realized it had been there in the first place. 

“My dear… I apologize if I ever insinuated you lacked flair.”

There was so much pride in those words.

“And how is one supposed to respond to this…”

“Proposal, Garak. I am proposing to you.” Julian said with much exasperation. Was Elim being obtuse on purpose?

“Oh, my. What a provocative gesture.”

Julian flushed, sorely tempted to hiss at Garak to contain himself in polite company. 

“Well, my question stands. What is the appropriate response to this little… courtship ritual?” Elim inquired with some gravitas.

“If you’re amenable, all you have to do is say ‘yes’. And give me your left hand.”

“Like this?” Elim extended his hand, palm up, as if to help Julian up. 

“No, my love…” Julian murmured affectionately and ran his fingertips down Elim’s offered palm, eliciting a most satisfying shudder. He then grasped Elim’s hand gently and flipped it, caressing his knuckles with the thumb of his left hand. “Like this…”

Elim was staring at him with an intensity that threatened to steal his breath away. 

“All I have to do is say yes?” Elim said haughtily, presenting a teasing façade meant to conceal just how affected he was. Julian was pleased to note how transparent Elim’s masks were proving to be in front of him these days. 

“_Mirror of my soul_…” Julian breathed.

“Yes, Julian.” Elim spoke clearly, emphasizing both words. 

The joy was unmistakable; as fragrant as an Edosian orchid, and as heady as their favorite kanar.

With suddenly trembling fingers, Julian slipped the ring onto Elim’s ring finger and took a moment to appreciate the sight. It fit him perfectly.

“My dear… Is that onyx?” Elim inquired deceptively innocently.

Julian grinned.

“It can be if that’s what you want to tell the people who ask you…” 

The answering grin was positively sinful and Julian allowed Elim to pull him to his feet. Chest to chest, they stared at each other, savoring the feeling of mutual appreciation. If they weren’t in such a public space, Julian knew he would probably have to kiss his attire good-bye. A thrilled shiver cascaded down his spine.

Julian was torn out of the moment when he heard a familiar sound of somebody clearing their throat. Startled, he looked to his left and saw Miles looking rather red in the face. It was probably due to the heat.

Well… There was more than one kind of heat, Julian thought wryly.

Keiko was holding Yoshi and positively beaming at them. 

“I assume congratulations are in order?” Ghemor said serenely and Julian chuckled.

After a spontaneous round of applause and some whistles from the Federation team, Julian disentangled from Elim and allowed Ghemor to welcome the scientists to Cardassia. While introductions were being made, Julian whispered to Elim, “We got an early wedding gift from Rom and Leeta…”

“Oh?” Elim asked with interest, yet kept up the appearance of attentiveness towards the proceedings. 

“A shuttlecraft. The hull is Cardassian, but the inner systems are a mix of Federation, Ferengi and Cardassian technology. Rom said he was particularly proud of the engines. When I asked him whether to expect a spatula among the components, he stuttered and said he wasn’t as cheap as Quark and that he spared no expense.”

“Rom is a good man.” Elim said. “Regardless, I’d like to go over the ship’s systems myself. Just to familiarize myself with its workings, you know.”

“Mhm.” Julian murmured, fairly convinced Garak was paranoid and probably looking for nasty surprises. Well, the two goals could coexist simultaneously.

“Martok and Worf sent us two casks of bloodwine as an apology for missing my bachelor party.”

“How generous!”

“Martok called me and promised me he would sing the song of our glorious adventure in the Dominion prison camp at our wedding.”

“Did he, now?” Elim looked at him with mischief glinting in his eyes.

“Oh, yes. He said that the brave Cardassian gets two verses.” Julian snickered, trying to provoke his husband.

“Only two? I should have known the Klingons would hog all the glory…” Elim said haughtily, though Julian could tell his husband was genuinely amused.

“I forgot to mention the best part about the vessel…”

“Hmm?”

“It has the best replicator on the market. Programmable, too. You can add new replicator patterns from pre-existing models.”

Elim gave him a keen stare.

“We won’t be hungry, Elim.”

He watched his husband’s face flicker with emotion, then turn to their children.

Julian understood the sentiment perfectly.

Ghemor escorted the Federation team to a skimmer that would take them all to their new housing, and made plans to reconvene tomorrow. Julian said goodbye to the O’Briens, knowing he would see them first thing in the morning. When Miles’ back was turned, Keiko winked at them and boarded the skimmer. 

“It’s good to see Mrs. O’Brien again.” Elim said and Julian could tell it was a truthful statement.

“I must admit I’d love to see you both discussing plants.”

“Why don’t we invite them to see the garden?” Elim offered.

“That would be great, Elim!” Julian beamed at him and looked at their children. “Do you want to see our new ship?” 

Phela was grinning madly and looking to her brother, who seemed to be trying to hide his interest.

“It’s never too early to start with piloting lessons…” Elim said mildly and Julian observed Rekat’s reservations melting away like water and leaving behind an expression of childish excitement rarely witnessed on his son’s face. He hoped to see it more often in the future. 

Julian wondered whether they should transport directly into their new ship, but decided against it. It seemed wasteful, plus there was a potential to scare the children. They walked through the corridors of USS Hermes instead, and Julian enthusiastically explained everything he could think of, from the ship’s layout to its specs, and the function of various rooms they were passing through. Garak, instead, pointed out every flaw in the design and function of the ship, being contrary just for the hell of it. Or to be flirty. Probably both, knowing Elim. Julian blushed and hastened his pace towards the Shuttle Bay Two, trying to tamp down his body’s reaction to his enjoined’s teasing. 

He turned a corridor and stopped in front of the Shuttle Bay doors, saying-

“We’re here, this is the-“ Only to turn around and realize Garak and the kids were half a corridor away. He blushed in embarrassment and watched Elim _saunter_ the rest of the way, as calm as you please. 

“Not everyone is blessed with your long limbs, my dear.”

“Uh, s-sorry.” Julian said sheepishly, apologizing first and foremost to his children.

“No matter… Now, let’s see this new ship of ours, shall we?”

They entered the Shuttle Bay and Julian took them to their new vessel. The children oohed and aahed, running their little hands over everything and Julian let them. He feared if he drew attention to their joyful exploration, Rekat would get self-conscious and stop. As soon as the doors behind them closed, Elim took over and began his preliminary inspection. Julian stood back and watched him interact with the children, describing what he was doing in somewhat simplified terms so the children could follow. It was wonderfully domestic. 

Julian marveled at how natural Elim was at being a parent. His heart felt full. 

“Why don’t you clear our departure with the Hermes, Julian?” Elim suggested and Julian happily complied, calling the bridge to announce their imminent departure as Elim settled into the seats at the helm. Julian joined him, noting how absurdly comfortable they were.

“Rom really spared no expense, did he?” Julian remarked.

“We should thank him properly.” Elim acknowledged, “It was a very thoughtful gift.”

Phela tugged at his trousers and Julian picked her up, depositing her in his lap. Rekat was currently staring at the console with rapt attention as Elim demonstrated the proper sequence for lift-off. The doors to the Shuttle Bay opened and Julian dropped a little kiss to Phela’s hair as the ship powered its thrusters and gently peeled away from the floor and out into the warm Cardassian afternoon. Elim adjusted their altitude and went slowly enough that the children could track where they were going from the air. 

“We’re… flying!” Rekat exclaimed and Elim looked at their son with so much undisguised love that Julian felt himself tearing up. 

As they flew over the city, Julian took in both the devastation and the tentative rebuilding efforts. If they took trips like this over the years… Would the sight underneath them keep getting more splendid? 

Would Tarlak bloom once more?

Would the dunes in the far distance sway with crimson grasses?

“We are over Paldar now.” Elim said in high spirits and Julian followed the outline of the city’s destroyed urban grid, trying to find the Necropolis and by extension, Tolan’s shed. He could just about see the jutting rubble monuments and as Elim descended the craft, Julian’s eyes fell upon a plot of land that previously lay vacant. 

“Elim? Whose house is that?” 

The smirk he got in response was absolutely maddening. It taunted him with infuriating vagueness and wicked promise all at once.

“Whose, indeed…” Garak toyed with the answer, content to leave the suggestion unspoken and hovering in the air.

Julian’s eyes boggled at the implication.

“B-but… How?” He blurted out inelegantly, wondering where an entire prefab house could have come from. It wasn’t a big one, but compared to the shed it was a veritable palace!

“Rom and Leeta weren’t the only ones who were generous with their wedding gifts… I must admit I do enjoy this particular human custom…” Elim’s tone was deeply amused.

“Who was it?” Julian inquired and Elim gave him a delighted smirk.

“Why, Nerys, of course! We endeavored to keep it a secret from you. It would be a poor surprise otherwise.”

Julian’s eyes filled with tears.

“Elim…” 

His husband’s gaze was warm and his voice was love incarnate.

“Welcome home, Julian.”

Julian indicated yes with his chin, momentarily too overwhelmed to speak. 

“Why don’t we land the ship and get something nice from this replicator Rom was so generous to supply us with?” Elim suggested.

Phela made an excited giggle and squirmed in Julian’s lap. Elim touched down so lightly that Julian barely felt the landing. 

The negotiations for the food from the replicator were sweet and kind of heartbreaking. The children ordered something that had Elim sighing. Julian assumed it was a bland kind of food they were used to from the orphanage. In the end, Elim put his foot down and ordered them something of his own choosing – a variant of one of the dishes they had at the dinner Parmak cooked for them at Ghemor’s. It seemed to have a good variety of vegetables and even a small amount of meat. Julian was sure Elim chose it both for the taste and the nutritional value. And when Elim asked him what he would like, Julian admitted that Elim’s pick sounded appetizing, so in the end, they all ended up having the same thing. For some reason, it seemed to make the children happy. Julian wasn’t terribly used to everyone eating the same things, but supposed the uniformity of it lent it a familial feel; back from the times when people still cooked in their everyday lives and made a single meal for their families to share. 

Gingerly, they walked to the prefab house, the children dreadfully serious and extremely focused on carrying their plates safely to the dining table. Julian was saddened to realize food had thus far been a scarce and unappetizing affair for his children. If they had been born on Earth, they would probably be picky and throwing tantrums about food. Or refusing to eat their dinner because they had over-indulged on sweets. Cardassian orphans were creatures uniquely disadvantaged in this area. Their only constant in life so far had been a permanent lack of things they needed to thrive.

Lack of proper nutrition.

Lack of attention.

Lack of care.

Julian wanted to give them everything they needed to one day blossom into healthy and happy individuals. It would be a long road, he knew. 

Still, as they ate, Elim leading the conversation, asking the children about their preferences (Julian noticed Phela subtly moving something blue to the edge of her plate), Rekat seemed to be eating everything valiantly even if his face would go slightly sour at certain points. This gratitude to eat what one was given, despite the aversion to its taste or texture… Was it any wonder he wished to spoil them and give them every comfort? 

And when the food was gone, Julian half-expected to see the children thanking them for the food but that didn’t happen. Perhaps Cardassians were expected to take care of their family and thus, no thanks was necessary. To Julian, that was as it should be. Elim raised both his palms and the children almost tripped over themselves in their haste to answer the gesture. It lasted for solid ten seconds at least and then Elim placed his palm over their little foreheads and Julian watched the children leaning into the touch like they were flowers starving for the sun. 

With a significant look, Julian knew it was his turn. He opened both of his palms and held them up patiently. Phela squealed and scurried towards him but then stopped, looking to her brother who didn’t seem as enthusiastic. Perhaps the elder sibling was expected to take the lead?

Still, Rekat approached and for the second time today, Julian pressed palms with his son and his daughter. He imitated the length of contact Elim had demonstrated and after that was done; he too put his warm palms over his children’s foreheads.

Phela warbled happily and melted against his hand, yet Julian was more concerned with what his son would do. Rekat’s eyes were downcast, but not closed. Still, the boy shivered and let out an involuntary sound, butting his head into Julian’s palm, then looking up with wide and mortified eyes. 

“You can go play with your sister if you’d like, my son.” Elim said graciously and Rekat sprang away from Julian, practically sprinting out of the house. Phela stared after him and cried out:

“Wait for me!”

Despite her words, she burrowed into Julian’s palm, as if to seek more warmth and he hugged her briefly before releasing her. With a little squeak, she bolted after her brother, disappearing from sight. 

“He is merely unused to affection, my love.” Elim said softly. 

“I know.” Julian murmured and looked across the small rectangle table at his husband.

Rekat wasn’t the only Cardassian unused to kindness in this house.

“Why don’t I show you around?” Elim offered and Julian gladly accepted, rising from the table to follow by his side. 

“The roof is comprised of solar paneling, and this powers the unit. There are moisture extractors and a water tank that collects the condensation, so there is drinkable water we can use irrespective of the city’s water grid. There is a replicator, but there’s not enough energy to use it for anything extravagant. With Rom’s gift, it’s no longer an issue.”

Julian hummed in acknowledgment, taking in the house. 

“Ziyal’s drawing!” He exclaimed, noticing the framed artwork proudly displayed on the wall of their living room. Elim smiled.

“Well, it was a gift… Even if it’s not the Union gift I had assumed it to be.”

Julian flushed.

“Yeah… Nerys sent it, so… It shouldn’t really count as a Union gift…”

“Do you have a matching ring to the kind you gave me?” Elim asked unexpectedly.

“Uh… Of course I do.”

“May I see it?”

“Yes, but-“ 

“Come along, dear.” Elim gave him a demure look and headed deeper into the house. 

Bemused, Julian followed him. 

“Here is the shower room and an adjacent-“

“Elim, this deflection confuses me.” Julian admitted.

“Patience, Julian… I’m getting to it.” Elim’s expression was positively maddening. Julian wasn’t sure whether he wanted to roll his eyes or start a vicious argument. 

“Now, the children’s room is right across the hallway, so they don’t have far to go if they need to use the bathroom in the middle of the night…”

Julian was puzzled, but he let Elim complete his little tour of the house. The furnishings were sparse and utilitarian, but the house had all the basic amenities, plus a study - even a small guest room. It was a simple one-level structure, but that didn’t matter. They had more than enough space for their needs. Julian assumed the shed would remain Elim’s workspace, at least for the tinkering. 

When they got to the last door, Julian knew what lay behind it. 

The final, unaccounted for room.

Their bedroom.

His throat ran dry and his heartbeat quickened.

As soon as the doors closed behind them, he heard the locks engaging and in the next moment found himself pressed against a cold, bare wall. The moan wrenched from his lips seemed to increase the blazing heat in his Elim’s eyes. 

“What have I told you about shirts that reveal your collarbones?”

Julian felt a thrill skittering down his skin, raising what felt like every hair on his body.

“Are you inviting me to a side-alley, Elim?” He asked brazenly. 

“I’d say it’s a bit late for you to run, wouldn’t you?” Elim said in a low tone.

“Oh God, yes-“ Julian breathed and arched into the covetous touch descending upon him with an almost predatory ferocity. 

“Elim…” He moaned, insensate already. 

He was being systematically dismantled, piece by blissful piece. Lips drank from his skin, gray hands divested him with almost indecent haste and soon they were locked in a sensuous battle. For the first time, Elim seemed entirely unmindful of his attire, either where it landed or how creased it would be after they were done. He was even more careless with Julian’s clothing.

“You don’t need anything.” Elim growled against his lips and Julian clutched his neck ridges firmly.

“I need you-“ Julian whined and gasped into the fierce kiss.

He was sublimating.

Ascending.

Every caress left behind a fiery trail of pleasure and Julian felt completely helpless before it. 

Had his body ever felt so vibrantly alive?

“Hold onto me.” Elim instructed and Julian obeyed. “I want to have you like this...”

Julian trembled, tilting his hips forward, while his shoulders remained firmly pressed against the wall. Elim grasped his left thigh possessively and maneuvered it upwards until Julian got the idea and wrapped his legs around Elim.

“I love how easily you can follow my lead, Julian…” 

Julian was gasping for air, needy and breathless with anticipation.

“You are exquisite, my dear.” Elim uttered, meaning every word. 

He’d waited for so long…

They both had.

So long to become what they always had the potential for. 

A pair of twin stars.

A blazing light in the endless darkness of space.

A beacon of safety and source of life.

With a blissful cry, Julian let himself be overtaken. Moving in concert with Elim, every muscle straining and striving for pleasure, he was completely drunk on the frantic noises of their coupling. He felt utterly liberated and let every noise of pleasure spill into the room containing them.

Even if there was nothing that could contain them now.

This shared emotion was of this plane, yet seemed to transcend and echo into the higher one. Julian felt like they were pulling Heaven itself down onto their plane of existence. 

“Julian-“ The aborted attempt at his name was the only warning he got before Elim climaxed inside of him. The heat and pressure of his enjoined, holding him with a strong, if slowly faltering grip, had Julian so close that three swift tugs were enough for him to fly off the edge. 

“Unh…” Julian groaned, trying to clear his vision of glowing speckles of golden dust.

Elim huffed against his neck, echoing his sentiments exactly.

Julian blinked several times and then took in the incredible mess they’ve made. Clothes lay strewn around them like a halo. When Elim’s grip on his leg slackened, Julian lowered his feet to the ground and tried to stand. His knees buckled and he took hold of the wall not to fall over. Unable to help himself, he began to chuckle.

“That was…” He exhaled sharply, “Quite the welcome.”

Elim gave him a lazy smile and pressed their foreheads together.

“I love you so much when you’re all romantic…” Julian muttered, still trying to get his breathing under control. 

“Oh, as opposed to…?” Elim trailed off, looking at him softly.

“As opposed to nothing, Elim. I’m pretty sure I love you even when you’re being impossible.”

“Lucky me.” Elim declared.

Julian laughed.

“I thought Cardassians didn’t believe in luck?”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear…” 

Julian shook his head.

“How did I enjoin with a liar like you?” 

Elim cracked an eye open and smirked at him.

“What can I say? I can be very convincing.”

Julian looked at the man before him with all the love he possessed. 

“In that case, thank you for convincing me.”

Elim nuzzled into his jaw and planted a kiss beneath his ear.

“Glad to be of service, beloved.” 

Elim then looked around, his eyes sharpening.

“What are you looking for?” Julian wondered aloud.

“Ah, there we are.” Elim muttered and bent to pick up what turned out to be Julian’s trousers. He felt around for the pockets and rummaged through them to pull the small box out. Once he had it, he dropped the trousers back on the ground nonchalantly and cracked the box open, taking the ring out. He tossed the box over his shoulder, sending Julian into a fit of laughter. 

“So dramatic!” Julian sniggered.

Elim took his left hand and kissed his palm. Julian promptly shut up. How brightly those blue eyes burned…

Julian shivered as Elim slid the ring onto his finger. 

“Now… I believe humans celebrate their unions with a matching pair of rings?” 

Julian felt himself going all soppy.

“They do.”

“In that case, I will accept this as your Union gift, my dear.” Elim smirked at him in a thoroughly infuriating way. Julian sighed, gazing at his husband with overwhelming fondness.

“For a couple that did everything out of order, I guess we turned out pretty well?” Julian observed.

Not for the first time, Elim’s only response was a smile.

Who needed words, when eyes spoke so eloquently?

Julian embraced his husband and closed his eyes in respite. 

His heart was finally at ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... This has been a journey. My brain still hasn't caught up with me. I have finished this story, but I don't feel done at all! I will need to find some kind-hearted individual to help me whip this monster into shape. Still, despite the no beta situation, most of my readers seemed satisfied??? I still find that unfathomable. 
> 
> As always, do tell me what you thought, and I will see you in a few days with our happily-ever-after flavored epilogue!
> 
> I hope the ending was (will be) satisfying, as I tried to tie everything together.
> 
> I love all of you, lovely readers, who took the time to see this huge story to the end! I am humbled and grateful! Do talk to me in the comments, or on Tumblr (same username).


	105. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year later on Cardassia...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have it, my beloved readers... The end of this saga.
> 
> [Meya Lilies](https://syaunei.tumblr.com/post/625359590237847552/the-final-track-on-the-under-the-blind-moon-ost)
> 
> Lastly, huge thanks to Obsidian_Operative, without whom the ending of this story would have been... well. Not as good, that's for sure! Less sweet, I imagine. 
> 
> Thank you, my dear, for encouraging me and reading through endless drafts of the last dozen or so chapters. You're the best!
> 
> Also, many thanks to my muse, EmpokNor, who was my first fandom friend and who shared with me an unbridled enthusiasm for Garashir that I truly appreciated. Your tears over my work and your honest overwhelmed reactions will stay with me for a long time.
> 
> And lastly, one last, huge thank you to Andrew Robinson for giving me my creativity back when I thought myself creatively destroyed for good. I am forever in your debt, kind sir.

** One year later... **

As Chief Coordinator, Julian was kept apprised of all the obstacles and breakthroughs of Project Andak, even if he wasn’t able to see the fruits of everyone’s labor very often - at least not in person, that is. Regardless, seeing the holos of their progress that Keiko kept sending him was a blessing, despite the fact no mere image could capture the beauty and sheer wonder of their endeavor. Elim was still advising Ghemor, who had ascended to the position of Castellan and was doing a marvelous job so far. 

The orphan bill had passed with little fanfare, which was (according to Elim) a good thing. Orphanages were slowly emptying out, and according to their estimation, at least 30% of children were already adopted in the scant few months since the bill had been passed. The number would have been higher if the bureaucracy had been capable of handling all the requests. Needless to say, it was proving a fairly popular measure. Alon promised better schooling would be available for any children that failed to find a family. The State would sponsor them if they showed an aptitude for a particular field. Julian believed him.

Despite his day job, he kept working at the Research Centre part-time. When Zeyem told him she’d been making a tally for his pension fund, he nearly fell on his ass. 

_ “Just because the bureaucracy is momentarily indisposed, doesn’t mean it goes away. Meticulous records are the basis for any civilized society.”  _

Julian had snickered but conceded her point. 

Large parts of the Cardassian archives were simply gone. Elim had worked with Pythas to restore what he could by extracting it from the Order’s databanks (whose location Julian still didn’t know – probably for the best). At Julian’s insistence, Pythas got the most extensive reconstructive surgery Julian was able to provide with the supplies they had. His spine had been badly damaged and he would never have full mobility, but he could walk relatively un-aided now. His face was mostly restored, even if one of his eyes was forfeit. Julian had tried to convince Pythas to get an artificial replacement, but the Cardassian had refused, opting for a glass eye instead. Despite having the former operative in surgery for days, and subsequent monthly check-ups, Julian still knew virtually nothing about him except that his pain threshold was abnormally high. If Elim Garak had been mysterious, Pythas Lok was an absolute enigma. 

Julian was pleased when Pythas and Elim resumed their kotra games. For some reason, Elim kept losing. Perhaps he’d grown rusty in his exile. That _was_ what he claimed, anyhow. Julian suspected it was a lie, but didn’t bother pressing for information. He supposed that two old spies had a right to their little shared secrets. 

The children were still getting used to having school again. It hadn’t been an easy transition and Rekat was having a harder time of it. Julian and Elim both invested considerable time into tutoring their son, which seemed to help considerably. The real difference had been when Elim began teaching Rekat about gardening, which appeared to have a calming effect on the usually wary and mistrustful boy. 

Their nights were reserved for stories. The children adored it when Elim recounted yet another Hebitian record or Cardassian classic, and Julian kept things fresh by alternating with Elim and offering children’s stories from Earth. He was amused by how horrified kids were about some of them – Little Red Riding Hood in particular. After he’d told that one, Elim’s next choice was a story about the Mogrund. Julian was deeply amused – the kids decidedly less so. 

Akot got into the habit of dropping by in the evenings when she was available, and bringing her younger brother Elkan with her. Even though he was two years older than Rekat, he seemed to take the role of follower (unless they were out catching regnars or bugs, in which case he was the undisputed expert). Julian was very pleased by this development.

He was brought out of his musings by a console beep.

“My dear, I do hope you’ve left your office by now. We do have an outing planned.”

Julian grinned at the screen.

“Yes, Elim. I was just about to leave.”

His husband gave him a supercilious look and terminated the call. Julian simply rolled his eyes and left his office, locking it up behind him. He descended the two flights of stairs and stepped out into the warm evening air. 

The dust was slowly becoming more manageable, but they were still far from their goal. Tonight was the day when he would finally be inspecting the fields in person. Naturally, it was just an excuse to see it, since the experts had already deemed it a success and he’d read all the reports. Seeing it in person, however… That would be a real treat. Locked in his four walls, he missed the sight of nature. Even one as inhospitable as Cardassia’s.

When he got to the skimmer pad, Elim was already parked there, waiting for him. Julian boarded their little vessel and greeted his husband with a palm press. 

“Settle in, Julian.”

“Nice to see you too, Elim.” Julian grinned and sank into the seat next to him.

“You are late again.” Elim admonished him affectionately. Julian knew there was a genuine reprimand buried in the loving reproach.

“I am sorry, love…” Julian muttered contritely, and then his tone turned sly, “Is there any way I could make it up to you?”

Elim smiled, still focused on the console.

“Don’t tempt me, Julian.”

Emboldened by this crack in his husband’s defenses, Julian offered in a seductive purr,

“We could use the autopilot…”

Elim looked at him sideways, clearly amused. 

“I see I have failed in my marital duties. To have my enjoined so deeply unsatisfied… Shame on me.”

Julian cracked a grin.

“It’s so nice to see you admitting your faults, Elim.”

Garak’s nostrils flared and he heaved a deep sigh.

“I wish I could indulge you, but I have reports I need to read through. Alon is working me ragged. I only wish he paid me better - at the very least!”

“Awww, I’m sorry, love. How inconsiderate of him. I’ll have to tell him that my love life is suffering…”

“You do that and I’ll never hear the end of it.” Elim groused. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it… You are my husband and I am sworn to keep your secrets.” Julian said in jest, yet he meant every word.

He left Elim to his reports and leaned fully into his chair, closing his eyes just for a moment…

“Julian… My dear…”

“Huh?” Julian jerked in his chair.

“We’ve arrived.” Garak snickered.

“Already??”

“You fell asleep.” Elim said softly, looking at him with undisguised fondness.

“I could swear I just-“ He huffed, “Never mind.”

Bleary-eyed, he rose out of his chair gracelessly and was grateful that Elim was nearby to steady him. 

“I am still amazed at how uncoordinated you get when you’re tired.” Elim observed wryly and Julian shut him up with a sloppy kiss. That was the one thing that consistently worked to put a stop to Elim’s grumbling.

“Let’s see this field, my love.”

It seemed Elim had different ideas, because Julian found himself breathless and panting after a full minute of wonderfully unexpected kissing. 

“That’s for teasing me earlier.” Elim shot him a devious look. “Now, come on.”

“So vindictive…” Julian giggled, still slightly out of breath, and followed him out. 

They stepped out into a noticeably cooler evening, and Julian’s eye wandered to the horizon, where a raucous riot of color was painting the sky. Sunsets were very beautiful on Cardassia. 

Julian followed Elim down the path, between the prefab shacks where the scientists were staying when they were in the field. The land was arid and dusty, but Julian knew that just beyond the small hill, lay a gentle valley. 

He clasped Elim’s hand and threaded their fingers together. The gesture was met with a smile that spoke volumes.

_ I love you. _

_ I like walking hand in hand with you. _

_ You’re so going to get it when I get you alone… _

Julian relished the resulting shiver.

After a few more minutes, the dusty path meandered downwards and revealed a gorgeous vista. Julian halted in his tracks to take it in. 

As far as the eye could see-

White and crimson lilies in full bloom – hundreds, no – thousands. Tens of thousands – growing, spreading their vibrant, deep green leaves eagerly and glistening in the descending twilight. The wind jostled them, making their white crowns sway gently. Julian was mesmerized. 

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Elim remarked and Julian wholeheartedly agreed. “Shall we?” 

The question puzzled Julian for only a moment, until it dawned on him what Elim intended. 

With a tentative smile, Julian grasped his hand tighter and descended the slope, walking until they got close enough to touch the lilies. Julian halted, but Elim gave him an encouraging smile and gently pulled him along and into the field. Julian dared not breathe as he treaded carefully among the plants, scared of stepping on any of their precious leaves. Elim stopped about a hundred meters in and turned to him.

“Stop looking at the ground, Julian.” He murmured, “Look up.”

Spellbound, Julian obeyed and gasped at the image.

They were standing in a sea of flowers, swishing delicately in the warm breeze. The vivid colors of the sunset made the thick leaves appear almost russet, shining like polished sheets of copper. He remembered at once the field of his dreams and knew this was the manifestation of the desires he had conceived of when he’d first come to Cardassia seeking Elim’s forgiveness.

Even in his imagination, the flowers weren’t as bountiful. 

And yet, this was only the first step towards a healed Cardassia. 

He looked at Elim, who was staring at the blooming expanse, following the line of vision to the darkening horizon.

“This is what I dreamed of, when you were laying in the hospital after Rekat’s surgery…” Julian admitted. “I wanted to give you a healed world.”

Elim turned to him and twined both of their hands together.

“And so you did…”

Julian huffed.

“It was all Keiko and her teams, I did nothing.”

Elim looked at him like he could see to the very bottom of his soul. 

“My world was healed when you heard my plea and accepted my invitation, Julian.”

Julian shuddered and leaned his forehead against Elim’s.

Even from a liar’s lips, the truth was the most convincing argument of them all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it.
> 
> Nine months I lived in this universe. It would not be an exaggeration to say that this is my baby. Likewise, I am forever grateful to all of you, my lovely readers, who saw my efforts and met them with endless kindness. Nine months after I have begun, I find myself in a completely altered mental landscape. I am like Julian, having found a community, friends, and kindred spirits. I expected nothing and you gave me so much love... I am humbled and in awe of the response to this story. I poured absolutely everything I had into this work - body, mind and soul. Thank you for treating me kindly. In the end, to this day (8th of July 2020) this story remains the only personal accomplishment I feel proud of. I've gotten so much out of it, and I can only hope that you, as a reader, found something of value in it as well.
> 
> It's been a healing journey for me and for Julian as well. 
> 
> My inbox and my Tumblr is always open to you!
> 
> See you in a new story soon!


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